Amazon & Saiyan: Consequences
by Nadia Rose
Summary: Chichi and Vegeta adapt to each other while trouble looms in the horizon, both with family and enemies. Under revisement.
1. Two Marks

Hello!  I finally got around to starting the next part of Amazon & Saiyan, thanks to all your wonderful reviews.   I hope this lives up to your expectations; but as Shakespeare wrote, "the course of true love never did run smooth."  This is now officially AU; but I'm badgering my helpers quite frequently for canon information.  A huge thanks for Demon Queen, Maria Cline, and Vegges Mate for letting me pick their brains and beta reading; without them, this fic wouldn't exist.

Disclaimer:  I don't own anything; heck, I don't know anything!  Please don't sue; no copyright infringements are intended.

Amazon & Saiyan:  Consequences

Chapter 1:  Two Marks

Vegeta pulled his head under the surface of the lake, trying to get his headache to recede.  It had been bad before; but now every little motion and movement sent pounding reverberations through his head.  His senses were still hypersensitive, but his body had ceased to produce the massive amount of adrenaline his needed to counteract the pain sensitivity brought.  Hopefully the water and a day of rest would counteract the last three days of following animal instincts.

He knew now why Radditz and Nappa had looked forward to the full moons so, even after Planet Vegeta's demise.  The pure emotions coursing through him had been like nothing he had ever felt before.  Of course, neither of them had ever mated with a woman capable of surviving; every female they had taken during the full moon died because they were weak.   Vegeta's new mate had matched his heightened state with one of her own.

The Saiyan Prince smirked as he swam beneath the water, pleased with himself.

He had finally forced her to raise her ki.

During the second night her relatively weak ki had formed into a blazing column of strength, easily matching that of both the monk & the bandit combined.  It had been more than enough to ensure her survival against his strength, and a pleasant surprise to find himself holding a woman bathed in a reddish aura.

She had offered him a knowing smile, then dashed off into the woods, daring him to find her.  All he had to do was find her, catch her, and then there would be nothing left to keep him from claiming his prize; she was ready.

He had claimed her indeed; she belonged to him now in body and soul.  If she was happy, he would know, as he would if she were angry, sad, frightened, or hurt until death separated them.  The dark red essence of her life force was so intricately bound to his that even her smell was imprinted upon him.

This bonding had intimidated him at first.  Bonded Saiyans were always bowing down to the other's wishes, often removing themselves from society.  The deepest bonds even heralded death, should one member of a pair die.  They were said to weaken an elite Saiyan's fighting spirit, and Vegeta would never weaken himself.  But this woman whom he had just made his own was anything but weak; her soul was as strong as steel and she had a temper to match.

During the entire process, she had never once cried out in pain.  He knew he had hurt her; she was only a human woman, and thus her strength could never equal his.  Yet she had never backed down during the past few days.  She had matched him, even when he knew he had no right to ask her to continue.  He'd pushed her past her limits, and still she had stayed.

He'd left her curled up at the edge of the clearing, where she had sunken into unconsciousness early that morning after the rage had finally receded.  He could see her form outlined against the shadows of the forest, ribcage rising slightly with each breath, dark head cushioned on one slender arm.  She would probably sleep until the next morning, unless a pressing matter woke her.  Through the past three days, they had eaten and slept only enough to keep their bodies going.  Once he realized she required more sleep than he did, he'd gone out to satisfy his hunger, leaving behind a pile of grizzled carcasses a few clearings away.  As was proper, he'd saved some of his kill for her, but she had turned up her nose and eaten berries instead.  Those short bursts of rest were nothing more than muddled memories in the back of his brain; they had not been important.

He remembered the important actions clearly.

He remembered the game they had played in the woods, of the hunter and his prey, and how, for a while, _he_ had been the prey.  Even now he could feel the way her skin felt beneath his hands, how her body pressed against him; the deft touches she had used to excite him even more.  The way she had writhed beneath him while he sank his teeth into her neck; the sharp but sweet pain when she had bitten into him, and the union of their souls that had followed.

Something hadn't been quite right with that exchange.  He had shown almost no restraint when giving her his soul, and she had clung to him while she adjusted to his gift.  But she had adjusted with so little trouble the problem could not have originated from him.  It had come from her, when she had allowed him to take her soul.  There had been the slightest hesitation, which he had expected.  The Princess was only human, after all, and a Saiyan bonding could be painful for Saiyans, let alone a woman of a weaker species.  So he had taken it as quickly as he could to lessen the pain.

Now, when it was all over, something wasn't quite right with the way he felt.  He knew well how bonded Saiyans were supposed to feel; the lower classes had lauded the sensation for centuries.  And this nagging sense that he had gotten more than he expected refused to go away.  Yes, she had not given him her soul as much as he had taken it, but there had been no other way; she would have gone mad with the pressures, and he needed his consort sane.  She had been more than willing to give herself to him; she had made that clear on several occasions; he had not truly taken her against her will.

What had he taken from her that was impeding their bond?

There should have been no problems.  He was a member of the Royal House, who while they bonded rarely of their own free will, were not incapable of doing so.  He had been a glorified slave almost all of his life, and yet that had not stopped him from completing his half of the bond.

His mate was a human woman, a Princess of some small kingdom.  Aside from her human blood, she had also carried her own horrors to their bond, but that had not stopped her from bonding before.

Vegeta froze, almost forgetting to tread water.

He had taken a mate who had bonded before.

Could the slight resistance he felt be her bond with Kakarot?  Kakarot had not truly bonded with her, for she had been able to arouse him.  She hadn't smelled of the third-class baka whom she had given a son, nor had she refused his attentions, as a proper mate would do.

But that was the only explanation.

She had bonded him while still bonded to another Saiyan, hadn't she?

Kakarot was dead, wasn't he?  The bond should have dissolved with his death, or at the very latest when he had bonded with her himself.

Spurred by dread, the Prince swam to shore and left the soothing waters of the lake, ignoring his battered spandex suit in a pile in the grass.  The water streamed down his skin in rivulets as he strode to his new mate, examining her ki closely for the telltale flickers that would indicate the presence of his heir within her.

He felt nothing.

He snarled in anger.  She had been at the peak of her reproductive cycle when he had taken her; it was impossible that she had not conceived.  But he felt no ki whatsoever from his mate; not even her own.

Could she be hiding his heir's ki, as well as her own?  Even while sleeping?  She had to be, and the Prince resolved to get her to teach him her methods of ki manipulation before his heir was born.

He knelt next to the sleeping woman, rolling her onto her back so he could clearly see the base of her neck.  The milky skin was covered with more bruises than he could count, but her skin had only broken in one place, at the base of her neck, where the livid mark his teeth had left stood out clearly.  And at the other side of her neck, parallel to his, was a second mark, left by another set of teeth long ago.

It had neither faded nor healed, which meant the keeper of his soul was still bonded to Kakarot.

The Prince of Saiyans snarled and lashed out with more anger than he had ever possessed before, more anger than had flowed through his veins when he realized that Frieze had actually destroyed his people.  It filled him, touching his very core as he fumed about how weak he had allowed himself to become, giving his soul to a woman who loved another.  As his anger spiraled out of control, the new connection he had so conveniently forgotten about channeled his emotions to the woman who had inspired such rage.

Son Chichi, daughter of the Ox-King and the Crown Princess of Amazonia, opened her dark eyes in time to see her new mate disappear beneath an aura of golden light as he ascended into the level of power that had only been a legend until very recently.

The Prince had finally become a Super-Saiyan.

* * * * * * * * *

As always, please review!


	2. Meeting in the Woods

Author's note:  Ok, everyone, here we go.  I've finally finished the next chapter.  *drops to knees to worship extremely helpful beta-readers/goddesses* This fic wouldn't exist without the help of Maria, DQ, and Vegge's Mate!  In the past three days Maria has redefined my definition of helpful, patiently answering my million and one questions by IM….if it hadn't been for her and her immediate responses, this would probably have taken another—how long has it been since I've updated?

Well, finals start next week—so I'm going to be a busy girl.  And after that I have to move back home for the summer, find a job, have my wisdom teeth removed, and repaper and recarpet my bedroom.  But I'll still have time to play with my 8 fanfics.  Because I'm going to be so busy, I'm starting an email-update list.  If you want to receive an email when I put the next chapter out, please leave me your addy in a review, or drop me a line @ nadiarose3@hotmail.com

Btw—the more reviews I get, the more inspired I am to turn out new chapters.  So—please be a good reviewer, even if it's just to say, hi, I've read your story.

And now for answers to Chapter 1 reviews:

Angel of the Stars:  Here you go!  More!  A fairly long chapter, too!

Shygurl:  You don't know the half of it…but read on!

DemonQueen:  What would I ever do without my beta readers!  (the truth:  absolutely nothing)

Renee:  Goku's reaction will come soon enough; and yes, Chichi is very much a princess and a warrior—but that will be shown more in later chapters.  And thanks!

Mistress Rayne:  Thanks!  I'm starting to convert myself…

Daniel of Lorien:  Wow….my first death threat J….ducks behind desk…I've continued, please don't hurt me! ;)

Secretsguirl:  Thanks…I hope you enjoy my odd-couples fic…it's gonna be very weird before I'm done….

Skittlekicks:  The essence of your review was inspiration for a later part of this chapter….

Kandy:  I'm continuing now!

Next order of business:  Disclaimer:  I don't own DBZ.  I don't own Vegeta, I don't own Chichi, I don't own Piccolo, Krillin, Yamcha, Tien, or Chaotzu.  If you can recognize it, I don't own it!  If you try to sue me you won't get more than a tattered collection of books and a flute; neither worth much!

Finally:  Read on!

Amazon & Saiyan:  Consequences

By Nadia Rose

Chapter 2:  Meeting in the Woods

For the handful of fighters who considered it their duty to protect the planet they lived on from any matter of threat, life was something that could change at any moment.  One day they could be living their mostly peaceful lives, and the next, on a spaceship to a planet thousands of light-years away, or even training in the afterlife.  After seeing everything they had, there wasn't a lot that could turn the stalwart warriors into stammering adolescents.

But the sight they found when they followed the gargantuan ki spike one muggy summer morning was more than enough to leave them speechless.

Chichi, the daughter of the Ox-King and the Crown Princess of the Amazons, opened her dark eyes in time to see her new mate disappear beneath an aura of golden light as he ascended into the level of power that had only been a legend until very recently.

The Prince had finally become a Supersaiyan.

Chichi stared at Vegeta, wondering exactly what had happened to him, and why he was glowing…gold.  She had her fire-aura, but unless she spent years refining that particular set of skills she could not call upon it at will.  It was only triggered in self-defense or in moments of extreme emotional agitation.  If this golden aura was anything like her red one, Vegeta would have to be very upset about something; there was nothing in the area that could endanger him.

"Vegeta?"

He turned to stare at her with green eyes harder than diamond, and such a wave of raw anger and hatred washed over her that the air crept out of her lungs.  She glanced up at her mate, ignoring the tears that were forming in the corners of her eyes.

This hatred that invaded his soul was directed at her.

Fighting for breath, the young woman planted her palms in the grass and levered her torso into a sitting position.  She winced as her much-abused muscles protested the movement; one of Korin's precious senzu beans would be more than welcome at the moment.

"Vegeta," her voice was hoarse, and she could barely raise it above a whisper.  

"Vegeta—why do you hate me?"

A sinister smile reminiscent of the Vegeta who had tried to kill her son touched the lips of the man before her.  He was so hard—and so cold…and yet there was something deeper that she couldn't put her finger on.  A tiny little sliver of something that told Chichi there might be hope.

"Hate you!"  The haughty Prince snorted.  "You're just a weak earthling woman; I could crush you as easily as a bug beneath my shoe."  His voice was cold as he walked over to stand above her, looking down upon her as if she were no more than a chair he was about to sit upon.  "I would never waste such a strong emotion as hatred on a pitiful creature like you."

Chichi tried hard to keep her despair from welling up like tears.  She would not let this man see her get upset; not now.  If this was the way he wanted their relationship to be, then so be it.

He would have to learn the hard way.

But before she committed herself to the forceful re-education of the man who had claimed her, she had to know one thing.  She slowly forced herself to stand, and calmly looked into the harsh green glare.  This was his only chance to redeem himself.

While Chichi and Vegeta braced themselves for a verbal battle, they were completely unaware of the men who had gathered in the safety of the edge of the forest.  The massive ki spike had startled them all into thinking that danger was near, and they had all taken to the skies, hoping to find out what it was.

They had been expecting something horrible, dark, and evil, threatening the very existence of the planet they called home.

What they did not expect was to find the Prince of all Saiyans and the wife or mother of his only two subjects arguing in a clearing.  Mouths open slightly in shock, the four men gaped at the situation before them.

Krillin, the master of embarrassing comebacks, was the first to find his voice.  "Am I seeing things—or is that Vegeta and Chichi without any clothes on?"

Yamcha nodded, eyes fixed upon the slender figure of Goku's wife.  "I don't see any clothes out there."

Krillin tore his eyes from the spectacle before him to glare at Yamcha.  "She's married, Yamcha—to Goku.  And I'm sure he wouldn't be too happy to know you're staring at his wife when she's wearing nothing but…" his eyes slid back to the scene before them.

"Grass," Tien finished weakly, all three eyes wide in shock.  Beside him, Chaotzu whimpered, hiding his eyes in taller man's leg.

Puar, while no less surprised than the others, finally realized that Yamcha, unlike the others, still hadn't adverted his eyes from the scene before them.  "Yamcha," the little cat squeaked in worry, "don't forget Bulma!  She'll never forgive you if she finds out you've been peeking at other girls!"

Krillin gave Yamcha a stern glare, reminding the ex-desert bandit that Bulma would indeed find out that he had been staring at Chichi, unless he found something else to look at.  Being a man, and one not bound by the strict upbringing of some brainwashing guild, Yamcha's eyes searched for something else to look at, and landed on Vegeta.

Like Chichi, the Saiyan Prince wore nothing that he hadn't been born in, but his appearance had so drastically altered that Yamcha only identified him by the dark undertones of his ki.  The man's hair was gold; and his aura, now visible, blazed like a burning sun.  He had his back turned to them, but Yamcha shuddered to think what sort of expression such a massive ki-spike had brought to the face of the Saiyan Prince.

He was probably ecstatic, having finally passed Goku in raw strength.

The three men exchanged glances, each trying to see if any of the others were going to leave when the pair in the clearing began to speak again.

Chichi ran dirty fingers across an open wound at the base of her throat.  "Doesn't this mean anything to you," she questioned the Prince softly, massaging what Tien could make out as a bite mark.  He wondered briefly what significance it held, but his thoughts were cut short by Vegeta's harsh reply.

"That," he poked a finger at the mark on her throat, "would mean a lot more to me if _that_," his finger slid across her throat to another, much older mark, "disappeared."

Chichi's dark eyes widened, and her hands went to her hips in a stance that each man recognized as Chichi at her most dangerous.  "And what is that supposed to mean!"

Vegeta growled and turned to pace, literally too angry to answer her.

The men at the edge of the forest quickly retreated deeper into the trees, instinctively knowing that now was not a time to be seen if they wanted to see tomorrow.

Chaotzu glanced at Yamcha, who was trying to comfort a quivering Puar.  "What do you think they're talking about?"

"She has two bite marks at the base of her neck," Tien explained quietly, still peering off towards the clearing.  "One is fairly new; it has recently scabbed over.  The other is a scar—years old."  He paused for a long moment.  "And it was made by a different set of teeth."

Krillin stared at Tien in surprise from his safe spot under the canopy of a particularly dense oak.  "You can see all of that from here?"

Tien smiled cryptically.  "There are advantages to having three eyes."

Yamcha sighed as Puar settled on his shoulder, nearly throttling him with her tail.  "So what's going on," he questioned, unconsciously mimicking the tone Bulma used to get answers from her subordinates.  "Why are Chichi and Vegeta in the middle of nowhere without any clothes?  And what's up with Vegeta's power spike?  I've never felt anything like it."

"That's because you were dead," a gruff voice answered.

Everyone whirled to see the tall green figure of a Namekian leaning casually against a tree, arms folded across his chest.

"Kami, Piccolo!"  Krillin swore.  "How long have you been here?"

Piccolo glared at the former monk, who promptly shut his mouth and tried to blend into the tree branch he was sitting on.  "Long enough."  

"What do you mean I was dead," Yamcha questioned, braving the wrath of the former demon.

Said person bared his fangs in an eerie snarl that would have sent Yamcha scuttling to Krillin's side, had he not been so curious to hear the answer.  "Vegeta has transformed into a Super-saiyan, just as Goku did on Namek."  He closed his eyes for a moment.  "But he still is not as strong as Goku was."

Krillin couldn't resist a chuckle about the fact that the haughty Prince was still second best.

Piccolo frowned, and gave them all the scornful glare reminiscent of his days as pure evil.  Puar shuddered against Yamcha's neck, hiding her head in the man's hair.  Yamcha swallowed, but refused to let Piccolo see him afraid.  "And I refuse to believe that students of the Turtle Master do not know what their lack of clothing implies."

Each of the men paused, shock coursing through their veins like ice water.

Krillin spluttered.  "Are you trying to tell me that they had _sex_?"

Piccolo snorted.  "If there is anything else that humans do together without clothing, I have yet to see it."  He cocked his head, obviously listening to something none of their ears were sensitive enough to detect.  "We should go to the clearing," he said shortly, and headed back towards the arguing couple.

Too shocked to disobey an order from the man who had, in his way, said more to them in the past few minutes than he normally would in months, they made their way back to the clearing, where Vegeta had finally sorted out his thoughts enough to answer his Princess' question.

"What it means, Princess," he snarled at her title, "is that you are still bonded to that fool Kakarot, and are not worthy of being my mate!"

While Krillin, Yamcha, and Tien cycled the word mate over in their brains and tried to come to terms with what they had just learned, Piccolo flinched at the loud voices and continued to monitor ki-levels.  He would not let anything happen to the dark-haired woman, simply for Gohan's sake.  If it weren't for the unquestioning loyalty and friendship of the little boy, he wouldn't have bothered to come at all.

Chichi's eyes had widened at Vegeta's comment, and she snapped her jaw shut with an audible click.  Sucking air through her nose, trying to calm down, she resembled nothing more than a raging bull preparing to charge.

Piccolo, more than familiar with the woman's temper, raised his hands to protect his ears.

"You can't expect me to just forget about Goku," she screeched angrily, no longer bothering to stop the tears of frustration streaming down her face.  "I've loved him for more than half of my life!"  She shook her head slightly.  "If it hadn't been for Goku I would have been dead long ago.  I can't just forget about the man I've lived for since I was ten!"  She fixated fiery eyes on the stubborn Saiyan Prince.  "I won't!"

Vegeta snarled in anger, clenching his fists.  "I should have known you would be a simpering fool.  If he had loved you, he wouldn't have left you alone for the past few years."  He stared at the woman's tear stained face for a long moment, then grunted in disgust, his hair returning to it's normal state.  "Go and wait for him then.  You'll be an old woman before he comes back.  While you wait for the third-class baka to finally remember to come home to you, remember what you could have had with me."

Vegeta strode to the edge of the lake, and pulled on a pair of spandex training pants, totally ignoring the stricken look on Chichi's face, her dark hair flowing in tangled waves, grass and small branches sticking out of it at odd angles.  She stared at Vegeta's back, looking lost and torn.  She closed her eyes for a moment, and they could see the tears welling beneath her lashes.

"I may love him, Vegeta," she whispered hoarsely, "but I belong to you."

Vegeta turned and stared at her, his expression harsh.  Chichi brightened, slightly, a soft smile touching the corners of her mouth.  Vegeta laughed, one hand resting on his stomach.  "Who said I wanted you, woman?"  

He grinned maliciously at her, enjoying the pain that flitted across her face.  "Not even a human wants an unfaithful mate!  No; I took you only because you're strong enough to give me an heir with Saiyan strength.  Your brat has proven that much."

Piccolo decided he'd had enough as soon as Gohan was mentioned, and stepped between them.

"Piccolo!"  Chichi exclaimed, hands flying to cover herself as she began to frantically look for something to hide behind.

Vegeta stared at Piccolo.  "Namek!"  He hissed.  "What are you doing here?"

"I followed the ki trail," Piccolo replied equably, absently removing his cape and tossing it to Chichi, who had been trying to fasten her broken armor back onto her body.  "And I wasn't the only one."

"What?"  Chichi stopped, and closed her eyes.  "You in the woods," she called, "I know you're there.  Come out!"

Vegeta's scowl darkened as Krillin, Tien, Chaotzu, Yamcha, and Puar emerged from the forest.  He marched up to Yamcha and charged a small ki ball in the fist of one palm.  "How long have you been here," he demanded.

Chichi peered over his shoulder, looking every bit as angry.  "How much did you see?"

Yamcha, while ready to take to the skies at any moment, couldn't ignore the proximity of the woman who now wore only Piccolo's white cape.  "Everything," he mumbled, before he could control himself.  "I mean hardly anything," he covered frantically, "we've only been here for a few minutes; just in time to see you de-transform."

He was too late; Vegeta's sensitive hearing had caught his first comment.  He found himself slammed into the nearest tree, facing the very angry Prince of Saiyans and struggling to pull air into his lungs.  Vegeta tightened his grip to the point where Yamcha was sure he was turning purple, when Puar transformed herself into a massive hammer and began to bash Vegeta about the head.

This only succeeded in tightening the Prince's grip, and the others rushed to help.  Yamcha was positive he'd open his eyes and see King Emna when he heard a woman scream, Vegeta's grip loosened and his hand came away from Yamcha's throat.

Yamcha gasped for air and tried to see past the white spots in his eyes, grateful for Puar's comforting presence at his ear, and the other warriors circling him warily.  When the spots finally receeded, his eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.

Chichi, bathed in the flickering red flames of what could only be a power up, held one of Vegeta's wrists to his side with both of her hands.  She squashed her body full against his, one foot winding itself around Vegeta's ankle as she pressed her lips against his.  As he lowered his head to deepen the kiss, his arm snaked around her waist, and he freed the other one to rest lower on her body.  Chichi's hand came to rest on his chest, and the other found its way to his neck, fingers lost in the expanse of black mane.

Beside Yamcha, Chaotzu groaned and hid his face behind Tien's leg again.

Krillin, as always, was the first to find words as they watched the two make out before him.  "Whoa."

Yamcha agreed that 'whoa' about covered it, as he firmly reminded himself that admiring the expanse of leg Chichi was slowly creeping up towards Vegeta's waist was a death wish.

Piccolo, slightly angry at being ignored, cleared his throat loudly.

Vegeta snarled, pulling Chichi to him with one arm as he extended the other and powered up another ki blast.  "I will blast all of you into hell," he growled, staring at them angrily, "if you so much as think about my mate without clothing."  He looked down at Chichi, who had rested her head against his chest and was rubbing her fingers across his collarbone.  "If I ever find out you've discussed what you've seen here with anyone, I will redefine your definition of pain."  The glare he shot them proved he wasn't bluffing, and Yamcha's stomach wrenched.

"Vegeta," Chichi murmured quietly, placing one hand on his extended arm, which he reluctantly lowered.  "I'm sorry we frightened you," she apologized quietly, then her tone firmed, "but Vegeta and I have some things we need to discuss.  In private."

"What she means," Vegeta snarled, "is get the hell out of here before I decide to kill you!"

As Tien and Krillin helped a shaky Yamcha take to the skies, Piccolo turned to stare at the tiny woman crushed to the Saiyan's chest.  "Just remember Goku isn't the only Son to consider," he admonished.

Guilt flickered across Chichi's face for a moment, and Piccolo gave her a stony look.  "He knows nothing yet—but you can't hide from him forever."

With his last parting shot, Piccolo turned and lifted off, heading in the opposite direction of the other Z-fighters, leaving the Saiyan and the Princess to carry on in the clearing.  Gohan needed at least one sensible adult with him right now; someone who could help him with the shock to come.

* * * * * * * * *

Meanwhile, thousands of light-years away, a young man with spiky black hair stared out of the small building he lived in into the night sky, in the general direction of the planet he called home.  Something was wrong at home; something had happened to Chichi.  Even if his space-pod could be repaired, it would take him months to get home.  But if he could master this alien technique, it should take only seconds.

Son Goku pushed his worry from him with a great effort and turned to the task in front of him.

He _would _find out what had happened to his beautiful Chichi.

* * * * * * * * * *

Let me know what you think!  More reviews means a new chapter sooner!


	3. Memory of Flames

A/N:  Well, here it is.  This is a "Nadia-stalling-while-she-decides-how-to-attack-the-next-chapter" chapter, so it's basically character development and plot builder.  Thanks, of course, go out to the wonderful betas.

Remember, I have an email-update list, and it's quite a list, too.  Email updates when chapters are updated, quick summaries of chapters, and a chance to look at what else I've been planning for A & S.  If you'd like to be on the list, please let me know in a review or email me at nadiarose3@hotmail.com

Thank you, jane, kooky, elektra64, Tokumei Kibon, Nofretete, Renee, Sparkle, Amelia, Scotty 2010, the wonderful DQ, and Secretsguirl!  And of course, ritual sacrifices to the great Maria Cline, Vegges_Mate, and DQ.  Drops to knees to beg forgiveness….maybe I should just build you three an altar next to my computer…*goes off to find suitable construction materials….*

Disclaimer:  I don't own DBZ or anything even remotely associated with it, and after this weekend, I won't even get the cable required to watch DBZ & DB anymore…

Amazon & Saiyan:  Consequences

By Nadia Rose

Chapter 3:  Memory of Flames

_It was a scene from a horror movie; the sun was just settling over the horizon, bathing everything in a macabre red glow.  The air was dry and thick with heat; the world was still, and almost silent.  The wind rustled through the thick brown remnants of what had once been a field, broken only by the crashing sounds of someone running through it.  In the background, the sound of metal-upon-metal rang clearly as a battle took place._

_Two children broke through the hay field, running as fast as they could from something only they could see.  As soon as they reached the worn footpath along the trees, flames devoured the hayfield from which they had just emerged._

_The tiny girl with ragged black hair glanced back over her shoulder at the inferno bearing down upon them._

_The redhead beside her grabbed her hand and pulled her along after him as he sprinted towards the river that would save them.  "No…Chi-chan!"  He gasped between breaths.  "Don't…look…back…just…run!"_

_The little girl nodded and followed her brother as they tried to outrun the magically enhanced flames and the demon that was spreading them._

_Just as they were about to reach the river, one of the trees lining the path caught flame, and the two children watched, horrified, as it began to fall across their only route of escape._

_They weren't going to make it.  The little girl slowed down, crying out as her bare toes barked against a rock.  She stumbled, nearly falling, but the older boy grabbed her by the arm and kept her on her feet, continuing to drag her towards the burning tree and the river beyond it._

_Just as they passed underneath the tree, one of the burning branches fell to the ground, pinning the boy beneath it.  He cried out in pain, and the smaller girl turned to try and help pull the branch off.  With a shrill cry, the fire demon began to swoop down upon them, and the boy pushed the little girl towards the river, crying out for her not to worry about him, to run and get to the river, where it was safe._

_Shaking with fear, the girl fled to do his bidding, crying as his pained screams rent the hot air…and the fire demon was swooping down upon her—she wasn't going to make it…_

_Then there was nothing but pain as a hand made only of whispering flames grabbed her ankle._

Chichi sat up with a shuddering gasp, eyes unfocused as her mind reeled from the memory.  After a moment, she pulled her legs beneath her and rushed across the house to the bathroom, emptying the contents of her stomach into the toilet.

Once she'd finished and rinsed her mouth out, she sank to the floor in the hall outside the bathroom, unwilling to go back to the front room to lay on the mattress thrown down just in front of the only window in the house that caught the evening breeze.

If she closed her eyes again she'd hear the boy's screams of pain as the fire demon killed him, see the torment of the girl-child who'd done nothing wrong except exist.

She couldn't deal with those types of memories; not now—not when she had to go back to Mt. Frypan that day.  There were enough reminders of that night there; she didn't need to relive it in her dreams anymore.

Chichi shuddered, trying to push the sound of her brother's screams out of her head, tried not to remember how the demon had felt when it'd grabbed her and thrown her into the river.  Tried not to remember the pain and the tears and the blood.

But once the first memory trickled past the dam, the rest followed like a huge wave, and the Amazon Princess fought bravely against her own personal hell.  She wasn't strong enough; the faces of her brother and mother flashed before her eyes, she could hear her mother's cries as she bled to death, her father's roar of grief as he came into the room to see her body lying still on the bed, Taro and Chichi crouched next to her, tears running down their faces.

She could remember crawling into Taro's bed those first few nights after their mother's death, thankful for his comforting arms as their father raged on elsewhere in the castle, breaking anything he could get his hands on.  How Taro had sung her to sleep on those nights to keep her from hearing Ox-king's cries, and the vicious battles that had taken place when the Amazons tried to help them.

But most of all she remembered the demon; and how much it had hurt her, and the never-ending spiral of pain she had traveled for days after Taro's death.  How it hurt to move, to breathe, to even try to think at all; her aunt's pleading voice and soft hands helping her cling to life as they'd traveled to the Fountain.  Her mother's voice, beckoning her to join them in the afterlife; her father's voice, apologizing for every time he'd ever hurt her.  She hadn't known who or what to listen to; but all she had wanted was for the pain to stop.

Chichi wrapped her hands around her knees and stared out at the starry sky.  They'd said it was a miracle that she'd even survived long enough to make it to the Fountain; that she never should have survived being pulled from the burning river.  That her badly-burnt body would never be able to withstand the healing forces of the Fountain.

But she was still here, today, sitting on the floor of the house her husband had built, without a mark on her.  There was no evidence of the massive burns that should have claimed her life, her skin was smooth and pale, her eyes sharp and bright, her hearing excellent.  She'd grown up, married, and even born a child, when by all modern laws of science she should have died at age six.

Over the years, if there was one thing she'd learned, it was that nothing good ever came to you unless you fought for it.  She'd fought for her life and won.

Now she'd have to fight for acceptance, and for love.

She'd seen the looks on their faces; the pure betrayal written across Krillin's features, the disgust that Tien wore like a cloak.  They didn't understand, didn't even _try _to understand what she'd been through.  And as far as she cared, they didn't have to understand—most of them probably couldn't.  All she wanted was for them to accept what had happened because they were the only people she'd had any contact with for the past decade, and the only people her young son knew.

She could deal with their giving her a cold shoulder just as long as they didn't shun her son for her actions.  Gohan didn't deserve to lose his only friends because they were too narrow-minded to see past their own anger.

Chichi doubted he would, though; they were fairly forgiving people, in the long run.  They'd learned to adjust to many different people, like Piccolo and Vegeta himself, thanks to the ministrations of Goku.

The slender shoulders drooped a little bit at the thought of her husband.

She missed him horribly, and knew she'd never stop loving him, but she belonged to Vegeta now.  When he had taken her that first night he had claimed her as effectively as branding his name across her forehead.  She wouldn't—she couldn't—betray him.  She was his now, in body, and, thanks to the Saiyan bond, in soul.  Dwelling on Goku would only depress her.

Delicate fingers prodded the old set of teeth marks at the left side of her throat.  Goku's mark; the mark that had made Vegeta so angry at her that morning.  In the midst of the vicious argument they'd had after their visitors had left, she'd managed to pry why out of him.  According to Saiyan custom, if the bond hadn't dissolved at the time of Goku's death (which it hadn't—in fact, it'd only blistered when Radditz had killed him) and she hadn't wasted away and died, then it should have disappeared when Vegeta had bonded with her.  But it hadn't, and he had eventually written it off as a mutation due to her human blood, and they had continued on with their argument.

Chichi's hand located the other, much more sensitive scar on the other side of her throat.  They hadn't finished the argument, but they had come to a resolution, of sorts.  She knew she'd be picking arguments with him if they all ended like that one had.  It had been far too long since she'd been held like that, and she enjoyed the sensation.  Of course, Vegeta would eventually have to realize she was her own person, too, but for now, she didn't mind being a possession.

Eventually, after a long fight, he would love her, but not now.  Neither of them were ready for that now.  She was still dealing with her past with Goku, and Vegeta wasn't ready to admit that he could love.

It would be a long battle, but Chichi was used to that.  There was always something to fight for.

This one was just personal.

She reluctantly pushed herself up from the floor, surprised to see that the sky outside had turned a murky gray in preparation for the nearing sunrise.  It was too late to go back to bed; and she had a long drive in front of her.

If she left by the time she thought she would, she would be lucky to make it to Mt. Frypan by nightfall.  It was time to get moving.  She shook out the flimsy cloth of her nightgown, sighing in relief as the morning breeze cooled skin clammy with sweat.  If there was one thing she missed about the castle, it was the eternal coolness of the thick stone walls in the summer.  Here she spent each night trying to find a room with a breeze so she wouldn't get heat exhaustion while she slept.  Usually she and Gohan would take the mattress/big bedroll from the guest bedroom to whatever room was coolest and sleep there.

Tonight Vegeta had looked at her like she was mad when he'd seen her drag the thing into the front room and shove the couch and chair back to the wall to make room for it.  After she'd explained and he'd retorted that sleeping outside would be cooler.  She'd returned that unless he wanted to listen to her whine about the bugs eating her alive, they'd sleep inside.  He'd been genuinely confused until she realized that his skin was too thick for the bugs to actually penetrate and bite him.

As she rubbed the red welt of a fresh bite on her arm, she decided that Saiyans were definitely luckier than most when it came to survival equipment.

She crept back to the front room, where Vegeta lay sprawled out on his back, unwilling to leave his most vulnerable side free to attack even in sleep.  Chichi moved to wake him up, but then decided to play it safe.  If Vegeta was anything like most of the other warriors she knew, shaking him awake was a good way to get herself knocked across the room with a defensive punch.  She retreated to the safety of the kitchen, where she pulled her largest cooking pot from beneath the cabinet, grabbed one of the wooden spoons that hung on the wall, and belabored away.

Now in most cases, the mere sound of a very loud noise would wake even a normal human up.  But normal human did not apply to anyone within the Son household; or anyone associated with them, for that matter.  Chichi had learned long ago that the only way to wake her husband without promise of a planetary emergency or a prompt breakfast was to shriek like a banshee and shake him hard.  She assumed Vegeta was as hard to wake, and decided to do it the safe way.

Unfortunately for her, years of surviving on planets where the inhabitants were trying to kill you, and amongst the murderous denizens of Frieza's empire had taught Vegeta to always stay alert, even while sleeping.  He'd woken up when the dream had bothered her, but had drifted back off to slumber when he'd realized what was the matter.  If the woman were truly ill, she'd get him up.

He hadn't expected to be roused by her enthusiastic rendition of a Saiyan ritual war summons.

He swore under his breath and rose, heading for the kitchen where he found his mate, calmly pounding on one of her cooking pots like it was an everyday occurrence.  Shimatta!  Didn't the noise even bother her?

For the sake of his sensitive hearing, Vegeta did the first thing that came to mind.  He lifted his hand, gathered a tiny ki blast, and flicked it at the offending spoon in his wife's hand.  He failed to consider the fact that it was a wood, and watched in trepidation as his mate suddenly found herself holding a torch instead a spoon.

She shrieked and flung it away from her, straight towards the Saiyan Prince.  He lifted his hands to disintegrate it into nothing, but misjudged the ki blast's power.  Not only did he destroy the spoon, but sent the blast hurtling towards his mate.  A quick flick of his fingers sent it on a course to miss her, and it zoomed across her shoulder, and seared a nice hole through the wall.

Chichi stared at the neat hole in the wall for a minute, before pinning him with a fierce gaze.  "What was that for?  You put a _hole_ in my kitchen wall!"

"And you nearly destroyed my hearing with your infernal racket!"

Chichi planted her hands on her hips.  "You Saiyans could sleep through a damn aerial assault!  How else was I supposed to get you up?"

"You could have just told me to wake up through the bond," he snarled back, neatly deflating her bubble.  "I am not the culture-deaf moron that your baka of a husband is!"

Chichi dropped her pot and jumped over the table at him, the frying pan magically appearing in her hand.  Before he knew what was happening, it connected with the side of his head with destructive force.

He jerked backwards, swearing as he rubbed the lump developing on his head.  "What was that for?"

Chichi stared at him, shaking with rage.  "LEAVE GOKU OUT OF THIS!"  Her bellow was louder than any he'd ever heard from her before, and he was sure his ears were bleeding.

And then, as abruptly as her anger had welled up again, it drained away, leaving him staring at a world-weary woman.   "Leave," she said quietly.

"What?"

"You heard me very well, Vegeta," her tone was deathly peaceful.  "Go back to Capsule Corps, go meditate in the mountains; I don't care—just go!  I need—I need some time to think."

"What do you mean, woman?"

She locked tired eyes with his, and pushed a jumble of thoughts along the bond to him.  Her head was whirling with so many conflicting thoughts it was a feat she hadn't gone mad.

She cocked her head and watched him.  "I need to sort all of that out, and I can't do it with you distracting me every five minutes!  Besides," she continued wearily, "I need to go get Gohan today, he's already been at Papa's for longer than they both expected."  She flinched slightly, and he felt her resignation.  "Gohan—Gohan's not going to like this at all."

Vegeta frowned, but said nothing.  It was not his place to interfere in affairs between his mate and her son.  If he were related by blood to the boy, he could tell her that the boy would either accept it or he wouldn't, but it was not his place.

At least, not yet.

She smiled apologetically at him, and disappeared up the stairs to her bedroom.  He stared after her for a moment, then shrugged.  He was hungry, and the old woman would have expected him back at Capsule Corps several days ago.  At least she would feed him.

About twenty minutes after the sonic boom that signaled the Prince's departure shook the surrounding area, Chichi emerged from her house in a long flowing dress cinched loosely at her waist.  She de-capsulized a small pickup in the clearing, climbed in, and the pickup barreled off in the direction of the distant Mt. Frypan.

For the first time in four days, Mt. Paotzu was silent.

* * * * * * * * * *

Please review!


	4. A Son's Love

A/N:  And here it is.  I sat down to write Gohan's reaction, and 17 pages later, he just found out….I sense some iffyness here, but that's ok.  There's a lot of premonition…

(and of course, thanks go out to the lovely beta-readers:  Maria Cline, Vegges_Mate, and DQ)

Btw…I started a GT Gohan story called A Saiyan Homecoming—not related to this at all—but my first attempt at a humor fic.  I'm also thinking about turning some old hard copy of a Bardock/Gohan AU I played around with a long time ago into a story—so if you're interested let me know!

Again—if you want to be added to the mailing list, let me know in a review, or send me an email @ nadiarose3@hotmail.com.

Tokumei Kibon:  Chichi is a woman made up of her past—Taro, her mother, and a few other characters have dominated her life.  You'll get to find out more about them later!  And thanks!  Yamcha's gonna have a more prominent role later!

Thanks, DQ!

Elektra64—thank you—and you're welcome!

Sparkle—there's not a whole lot of doubt in my mind who Chichi will end up with in the end—but hey—I think I'll be evil and just make you guess for a while…

Thank you, Daniel of Lorien!

You too, Rogue!

Disclaimer:  I don't own it.

Amazon & Saiyan:  Consequences

Chapter 4:  Happily Ever After:  A Son's Love

The sun was casting its last glorious rays across the rugged mountain range when the tiny truck rolled to a stop at the bottom of a huge mountain.  The driver sat in the seat, absently admiring the brilliant colors of the storm clouds gathering on the horizon.  She had always appreciated the irony that the most beautiful sunsets were created by storms, and it wasn't often she had time to enjoy what nature had to offer.  

When the sun finally slipped behind the mountain, she climbed out of the truck and threw her head back while she arched her back and stretched her arms and legs.  The drive from Mt. Paotzu to Mt. Frypan was a long one, and she had never been in the habit of breaking it up into two days.  Of course, she'd hardly ever driven it before, either; flying was much quicker, but there was much to be said for driving down half-empty roads at a high speed with nothing to do but think.  It was a good opportunity to sort out her thoughts, as well as try to simulate different plans on approaching her son.

As of yet, none of them had ended happily.

She shook her dark hair free of the bun it had been in all day, recapsulized her dusty truck, and slipped it into the pocket of her lightweight dress.  Even though her father's home was more than halfway up the mountain, one never drove directly to the castle; it was blasphemous to the memory of the proud kings who had once ruled over this area with strength, fairness, and all of the other virtues that were admirable in kings.

There was little left for the Ox-king to actually rule over; most of the land was gone, although a large stretch of it was still farmed and occupied by tenants, who basically governed themselves.  Her father had turned to treasure hunting to occupy his time, and now the vaults beneath the castle were bursting with various exotic and expensive items.

Chichi gazed at the bright lights of the castle for a few minutes, trying to decide if she wanted to walk up the main path, or take the shorter route.  A mischievous smile flashed across her lips as she settled on the latter.

Kicking her sandals off, she carried one in each hand, along with a fistful of skirt.  She shook her hair back and dove off the road onto a little winding path next to it, still visible despite the years of disuse.  The dirt was comforting against her feet as she ran full-tilt up the path, allowing memory to take over.  She and Taro had used this path for years as children, and she had learnt every rock, every tree branch, loose root, and unexpected twist in the footpath to the point that they could traverse it blindfolded; and even now, her body remembered the rhythm of the race.

She grinned into the wind she was generating and began to sprint in an open area, remembering that now she would be coming up on the one spot that had troubled them—the stream.  The path crossed at the narrowest point of the river, where the bank on one side was much higher than that on the other.  It had been nearly impossible to cross until Taro had borrowed an ax and cut down a tree to serve as a bridge.  The tree had always been slick and slippery, often dumping her into the stream, and the hard rocks beneath the water's surface.  Chichi had simply solved the problem by learning how to jump better, which was what she was planned to do now.  After all, it wouldn't do her any good to show up at her father's doorstep soaking wet, would it?

The young woman gathered her momentum and prepared to jump before pushing herself off the ground several yards away from the bank.  She cleared the stream and the higher bank easily, and instinctively began to aim for her landing-spot.

Unfortunately, there was something between her and it.

It was large, green, and wore a white turban.

Chichi opened her eyes just in time to see the Namekian's startled expression and let out a short cry just before she collided with him.

Piccolo, unprepared for the Amazon trying to use him as a trampoline, had been unable to step out of the way, and the force of impact sent them both hurtling into a convenient horde of ferns.  When he'd recovered his senses after being mauled by a black-haired blue blur, Gohan's mother was sitting on his chest, rubbing one of her ankles.

The Princess stared at the demon-Namekian who had taken her son from her, and annoyance flashed in her eyes.

"What are _you_ doing here?"

The Namekian grunted and pushed her off him, quickly rising to stand next to her.  He'd discovered that towering over the little humans often gave him an advantage.

Unfortunately, the height difference did not faze Gohan's mother, whose giant father was easily as tall as the Namekian.  She simply lifted her chin and stared at him, foot tapping in annoyance, unaware of how ridiculous she looked with her skirts bunched up around her thighs.  "Well?"

Piccolo glared at her.  "Do I look like a runway?"

"No, you look like a trespasser," she snapped back.  "If I had my helmet you'd be a headless trespasser," she murmured, knowing perfectly well the Namekian would hear her.  Her son may be fond of the demon, but her tolerance did not have to extend to when Gohan was not within earshot.

"I am not trespassing," Piccolo declared, folding his arms across his chest.  "Your father knows I'm here."

Chichi sighed.  "Of course Papa knows you're here; he knows every time someone steps onto our land."  She cocked her head and stared at him hard.  "But what are you doing here?"

Piccolo stared at her with an unreadable expression.  "Distracting your son."  At her confused glare, the man elaborated.  Well, elaborated for Piccolo, anyway.  He silently marveled that the heritage, which had given the woman incredible ki control, had also made her utterly unaware of it.  "Or do you not remember powering up?"

Chichi flushed and sat down on the crushed ferns, putting her head on a level with his knee.  "Dear Kami," she murmured softly.  "I knew Vegeta's had attracted the boys, but were we that bad?"

She glanced up at the Namek, who was looking distinctly uncomfortable with discussing sex, and decided to ease his misery.  "You don't have to answer that."  She pulled a hairband from her pocket and wound it around the mass of her hair.

How could she be so foolish?  She knew she had what the others would consider an unnatural ability for ki-shielding, but it was natural for her.  It was so simple for her to block her ki level that she never really paid attention when it escaped her control.  She just assumed that she was still blocking it and went on.

And of course Gohan would know when she spiked her ki; he was her son!  She was an Amazon; she would have a mild psychic connection to her son until he was a grown man; and probably after.  It generally served to let her know when he'd been severely hurt or was in great emotional distress and needed her, but it worked both ways.  He too, would know when something bothered her.

Gohan was probably so confused.  She glanced up at the Namek who was watching her with his perpetual motionless façade.  "Was he upset?"

Piccolo shook his head.  "No, just confused.  He and your father were camping that night.  I pushed my ki up as soon as you powered up.  Since I was closer, I canceled you out."  He paused for a long moment.  "I am stronger than you are, you know."

Chichi's face remained emotionless at his barb, she was not obsessed over her strength like a certain Saiyan was.

Piccolo continued.  "Gohan only felt your ki for a moment or two before I took over; and your father convinced him you were probably hunting dinosaurs."

The woman's eyebrows pulled together in a frown.  "Hunting dinosaurs," she repeated slowly.  "In the dark?  That's madness; I don't hunt dinosaurs in the dark."  Then she froze.  "Papa knows?"

Piccolo shrugged his massive shoulders.  "All I did was train with Gohan, but Kami tells me never to underestimate the King of Ox—he is very perceptive."

Chichi buried her face in her hands for a moment, then sighed, and straightened her shoulders.  She wouldn't be surprised if her father figured things out; he was a very observant man, if deceptively jolly.  But hunting dinosaurs in the dark?  That was absurd.

She glanced back up at the man before her, realizing, in an instant, that he loathed her as much as she him, but they both had a common bond.  They both loved her son.  The creature was a satellite for Gohan's feelings; and he protected the boy from many things that she could not, including herself.  At least he had given her a chance to explain things to Gohan herself.  It would hurt him that much more if he'd discovered the way the others had.

"Thank you, Piccolo."

He grunted and disappeared into the small cave nestled in the stream bank a few meters away.

She tried to rise and continue along the path to the castle, but her ankle—the one she'd plowed into Piccolo's chest, protested the movement and she remained sitting on the ground.  She unwound the long scarf from her neck and wrapped it tightly around her ankle, in hopes that it would give enough support for her to get back to the castle.

The castle was where she would find her father and her son, who were both waiting for explanations.

It only took her about fifteen minutes to make it to the castle; she slide in through the kitchen doors, where she found her father in the kitchen, halfway through the stack of dishes that could have only contained Gohan's dinner.  Only a Saiyan could eat that much; but she knew her father liked to cook as much as she did, so it wasn't that big of a deal.

He glanced up at her and smiled happily.  "I see you finally made it up the hill."  He frowned.  "What happened to you?"

"I had a little mishap at the stream," she answered, limping towards the table.

"Oh—did you see the green man—Piccolo's his name, isn't it?  He's staying down at the stream."  Ox questioned as he shoved a stack of clean plates back into a cabinet.

"We ran into each other, Papa," she muttered wryly as she popped down into the chair.  "Literally."

"I offered to let him use one of the guest bedrooms, but he insists on staying out there," Ox continued, not hearing her.  "And there's another storm brewing; I can feel it."  He sounded worried, as well he ought.  It was common knowledge that anything alive out in the fierce lightning storms was in great danger of electrocution; there had been fires started many times by large strikes.

Chichi shrugged, unwrapping her dirt-encrusted scarf from her ankle.  "Don't worry about Piccolo, Papa.  He can take care of himself."  She couldn't take the sarcasm from her voice, but she was too tired to care.

Ox turned to see what had bothered her when his gaze landed on her bruised ankle.  "Chi-chan?  What happened?"

"Nothing Papa—I just hurt my ankle trying to jump across the stream."  She gave him a placating smile.  "I'm kinda out of practice."

Her father frowned.  "Chi-chan; I know you've been sparring with Vegeta.  Gohan's been filling my ears with tales about how well the two of you spar."  He smiled.  "I'm glad you haven't forgotten what your mother and I taught you."

Chichi smiled, although her heart filled with sorrow at the mention of her mother.  She shook her grief away.  Her mother was gone; never to return.  Her father was the only parent she had, and he deserved to hear the news from her.  "Papa?"

Her father had turned back to the dishes.  Chichi rose and began to dry them as he washed, reminiscent of her younger days.  "Yes Chi-chan?"

"Vegeta claimed me."

Her father's brawny arm ceased washing a monstrous frying pan, but only for a second.  Chichi held her breath as he continued washing dishes; the sound of glass clanking and running water filling the cavernous room.  "I suspected as much."  He handed her the frying pan to dry.  His tone was thick with disappointment, and Chichi had to resist the sudden urge to quiver.

"Papa?"

He flashed her one of his toothy grins that made him resemble a crazed man, and she swallowed.  Would this drive her jolly father back into the edge of the insanity he had adopted after her mother's death?  He'd arranged her marriage to Goku, after all.  She'd just been the one to finalize it.  Her match with Vegeta had been entirely of her own making.

He would have to deal with it.

"When Gohan told me how often you'd been sparring with Vegeta I started to wonder."  He stared at her for a moment, then tugged her over to the table to sit down.  "Chishali," her Amazonian birth name sounded unfamiliar in her father's voice, "you are your mother's daughter."  He smiled wryly.  "No matter how hard I tried to give you a choice in who you grew up to become, you always chose the Amazon route—even unconsciously."

Chichi felt confused, and Ox squeezed her hands.  "I arranged your marriage to Goku because I felt that he would be stronger than you were as an adult; capable of earning your respect, while his nature guaranteed he would never hurt you or break your spirit."  He shook his head.  "But before you would marry him; you had to know, in your heart, that he was stronger than you.  He had to defeat you in a situation where he would not hold back for you to be happy with him."

Chichi nodded; remembering at first her despair at being unable to choose her own mate.  It was only proper for her father to choose for her; but she wanted to make the choice herself—she wanted someone stronger than she was, not someone her father thought was suitable.  Goku had met both of their requirements.

Vegeta just sent her senses ablaze.  After being alone for so long, his very presence excited her; the man simply oozed masculinity, strength, and power.  Being near him was intoxicating.

Ox-King watched her for a moment, taking in her rumpled appearance, then patted her hands.  "You've had a long day, Chi-chan, and your room is ready.  We can talk more in the morning."

Chichi nodded, both relieved and puzzled by her father's almost non-reaction.  She rose and straightened her now-filthy skirts as her father went back to the sink.  She jogged forward and managed to sling an arm around his neck to plant a feathery kiss on his bearded cheek.  "Thank you for watching Gohan, Papa."

He smiled—a true smile that set his eyes sparkling—and patted her cheek.  "You're welcome Chi-chan.  It's always nice to spend a little time with my grandson; he brings a bit of life back to the place after all these years."  He paused for a moment, cocking his head in the fashion that told her someone had just crossed the borders and her father was feeling them out.  His face tightened for a moment, then he shrugged, turning back to the much smaller pile of dirty dishes.  "Gohan is in Taro's room, if you want to check on him.  He tired himself out playing today," Ox's great fondness for his grandson was apparent, and Chichi smiled at him before shuffling out of the kitchen.

She half-ran up the many different combinations of staircases to the set of rooms she and her brother had called their own in the castle.  Before it had been rebuilt, the walls had been thick cold stone, rough and unpleasant to the eye.  Now the walls were much smoother, prettier, more finished.  Chichi's own room had been painted white, the stone walls hidden by several silk wall-hangings her Aunt had produced.

Her Aunt had produced most of the furnishings, actually.  The room itself with its wide windows and small balcony bespoke of Amazon design.  The only thing that was from her father's culture was the huge four-poster bed elaborately carved out of a rich cherry colored wood.  He'd made it for her himself, after the fire demon had hurt her, to give her eyes something to look at while her body recovered.

Chichi stared longingly at the thick, comfortable mattress that she could sink into forever, then at the bathroom door.  She had a real bathroom here—one with deep full tub.  She loved the standing bath at Mt. Paotzu—but here, here she could really take a bath.  Someone had even made sure her favorite bubble bath was sitting on the counter in full view.

She shook her head.  Gohan first—then she could sleep.

Her son was in the room across the hall, and she slid into it on quiet feet, pausing a moment to let her eyes adjust to the darkness.  This room was almost identical to its counterpart in the original castle.  The walls were still blue, one covered with a scale drawing of the star-system.  Posters of various fictional space heroes were scattered about the rest of the room, the desk and dresser decorated with small armies of samurai figures and model aircraft.  A dirty gi hung off the desk chair, a small sword slung across the seat, just as it had been when she was a small child.

The only difference was the boy inhabiting it.  The lump beneath the blankets in the sleigh bed had black hair, not red.

She avoided a particularly complex setup of soldiers on the floor and stood by his bedside, kneeling so she could peer into the familiar face of her son.  In sleep, Gohan's hard-earned maturity dissolved, leaving behind the little boy that Chichi hadn't truly seen since he was five.  In sleep, her baby could actually be a child.

She reached out and touched the spiky hair, surprisingly soft as it wrapped around her fingers.  He'd only been gone a week, and yet he'd grown.  Sometimes it felt that if she closed her eyes long enough, her son, once a little baby that needed her for everything, would grow into a man who wouldn't need her at all.

She prayed with all her might that that day would be a long time in coming.

"Mom?  'S'at you?"  Gohan had woken up just enough to realize he wasn't alone.

Chichi smiled as he screwed his eyes shut in defiance of being woken—sometimes he was just like his father.  "Yes, Gohan.  I'm sorry I'm so late."

"'S'okay," he mumbled again.  "I like it here with Grandpa."  He burrowed back into the pillows, and Chichi gave into temptation and climbed onto the bed behind him, drawing him to her.  He automatically curled up against her the way he had as a toddler, pillowing his head on her breast and pressing folded arms against her ribs.  She almost missed the feeling of his tail wrapped trustingly around her waist or wrist—almost.  With an arm around his waist and ankle thrown over his legs, she rested her chin in his hair and listened to the sound of his slow breathing with her entire being.

They laid together in silence for several minutes before Gohan spoke drowsily.  "Did you and Vegeta have a good spar this morning?"

Chichi frowned.  She hadn't sparred with Vegeta that morning—unless one counted verbal sparring.  Why was Gohan asking about him?  "I suppose you could say that," she amended and rubbed his back.  "Why do you ask?"

Gohan shrugged.  "You smell like him."

Chichi had to work to keep from panicking.  It was only an innocent observation—and she hadn't taken a shower that morning, so naturally she would smell like the man who'd shared her bed.  Gohan didn't know _anything_, he was just making assumptions and asking a simple question.  Loosing her calm would only make things worse in the long run.

She took a deep breath and rubbed his back.  "I had an interesting morning."  She sighed.  "I'm going to go take a bath," she untangled herself from him and let her feet rest on the cool floor.  She leaned over and planted a kiss on his forehead, then rose and moved to the door.  "I'll be in the room across the hall if you need me."

Gohan smiled drowsily and went back to his pile of pillows, not having roused enough to truly become alert.  "Love you Mom."

She stuck her head back into the room and smiled widely at him.  "I love you too, Gohan."  

The door clicked shut quietly behind her, and she wandered back into her own rooms and began to draw a hot bath, dumping liberal amounts of the scented oils into the water.  She shed her clothes and stepped into the water, allowing herself to sink to her neck in the sweetly-scented water.  It smelled of nectar and ambrosia, the same scent her mother had used, the one she associated with her.

Chichi closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the marble rim of the tub, humming softly to herself as she stared out the window at the starry sky.

Both her Mother and Taro had loved the stars.  Before she had died; she'd snuck them all out to a ledge further on up the mountain on summer nights, naming many of the stars in the skies.  Chichi had been much too young to really listen to her lessons; she'd preferred to sit in her mother's lap and play with her molten hair as Octavia lectured to Taro.  All she remembered was the lilting quality of the Princess' voice as the night wore on, and falling asleep in the sweet nectar-scented nightgowns.

She could remember a few of the stories, though.  Taro had told them to her often enough before he'd joined their mother in the next dimension.  It had been their way of connecting themselves to the fierce woman that had been their mother.  There had been one about the North Star, and how it never moved that Chichi could almost remember; could almost hear it recited in her mother's voice.

Even though she knew her mother was disconnected from the living universe and couldn't hear her or see what she'd become, Chichi always felt that when the North Star shined brightly, Octavia and Taro were still aware of her.  That somehow, they knew what had become of her life and how confused she had become.

Her eyes naturally strayed to where the North Star shone in the dark sky and she wondered what her mother would tell her about her life now.  If Octavia would be proud of the woman she'd become; if she would have blessed Chichi's marriage to Goku and teach her grandson the stories behind the stars.  If she would have approved of Vegeta.

Her mother and Vegeta would have gotten along well.

Chichi lounged in the bath and stared at the North Star, trying to let all of her worries soak away in the warm water.  She could get her life back on track now—she finally had a man to take care of her while she took care of things.

The North Star twinkled in the dark skies at her before it disappeared behind the silhouette of a man floating next to her window.  Chichi's heart froze before she recognized Vegeta's presence—and then it filled with anger.

"What are you doing here," she hissed at him, standing and pulling the plug of the bath.  "I wanted to tell them on my own!"

The beautiful dark gaze he gave her nearly sent her to the ground.

He wanted her.

She stared at him as he came to stand at the edge of the tub, resisted the urge to blush as intense dark eyes traversed her body from the roots of her hair to the tips of her toes and back again, not missing an inch of her bare skin.  When his eyes locked with hers again she felt exposed, but not violated.

He extended a hand, which she took to keep from slipping as she stepped out of the tub, never looking away from his eyes.  They shone like onyx in the lights of her bathroom, filled with desire as one of his strong arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her to him.

"We can't!"  She protested feebly as his hands roamed her body.  "Not now!  Not until I tell Gohan!"His teeth nipped gently at her shoulder and she shuddered as her knees went weak.  "Please," she pleaded softly, grasping firmly at her resolve.  It faltered as he bent his head again and nuzzled the mark at her throat, sending a chill down her spine, followed by the fire of lust.

He lifted his head and gave her a mischievous smirk.  "Do you want me to stop?"

She had practically melted against him the second he'd touched the scar at her throat, and he was taking full advantage of it.  "No," she answered huskily, tipping her head back as he stroked her neck, giving him better access to her throat.

Vegeta smirked and obediently massaged the mark, nearly driving her wild.

About the point she was sure she would go mad if Vegeta didn't take her then and there, she realized what they were doing.  She straightened up and stopped his hands, trying to get her breath back.  "No!  Stop, please!"

He stilled his hands but kept her pulled tightly to him.  "What now, Princess?"  His tone was surly—he'd been enjoying this as much as she had.

She rested her forehead against his own, so that their eyes were mere millimeters apart.  "It's not that I want you to stop—kami, any other day I'd make your life hell for leaving me like this, but we can't.  It's just—not right.  Not tonight."

"And why wasn't it wrong any night for the past four days?"  He questioned gruffly.

She sighed.  "It's not fair to Gohan."

"What does the brat have to do with sex?"

"I raised him to think about love between adults and a family in a certain way."  She sighed and closed her eyes.  "I shouldn't have done it that way, but I did, and I can't change that now.  What's done is done."

She paused for a long moment and Vegeta waited somewhat impatiently for her to continue, muscles rippling idly across his chest.  When she didn't speak again, he gave her a good prod across their bond, which, despite their physical separation, was maturing nicely.  Soon enough they would probably even be able to speak telepathically across it.

"And we're going to blow all those views to hell, aren't we?"

Her eyes flew open again, and she found him watching her with an annoyed expression, although there was a flicker of something softer at the corners of his eyes.

She nodded numbly, wanting nothing more than to lean against him and have him tell her everything would be fine.  But she couldn't.  He wasn't exactly the comforting kind, and she didn't really need comforting.  She'd brought about most of the issues to come herself; and she could get out of them herself.

It truly was her fault.  She really had been isolated as a child, but not to the extent her husband was.  As a child she'd grown up knowing about many different kinds of marriages; those of her father's people, those of her mother's people, and had lived through a Saiyan bonding when neither party knew anything that was going on.  She knew about untraditional marriages—she was part of one—and about divorce.

But she hadn't taught anything about that to Gohan.  She'd been hardly more than a child herself when he was born, and had taught him about life with a child's idealism.  Oh, she knew he'd read about divorce, and what society called unhappy marriages; but they were just facts to him.  He just didn't understand that a marriage could be broken—that a person could love others beside their spouse in the same way.

In terms of his parent's marriage, Gohan had been part of a fairytale.  She had been a Princess caught in a battle over two lines of succession saved by marriage to Goku, the poor-but-strong man who'd saved her as a young girl.  The Princess and her Pauper, a story that crossed all languages and cultures to end in happily ever after.

She knew what happened after the story ended—she'd lived it after all.  And it hadn't been happy, at least not until Gohan had come along nearly ten months after the fairy tale had ended, and they'd all finally become a family again.  Chichi had lived her fairy-tale ending once more.

Then it had all gone wrong.

Through the tears, the depressions, and the heartaches, Chichi had managed to cling to her belief that everything would turn out right in the end.  But it hadn't.  She'd ended up with a somber, far too mature son, and a husband who didn't want to come home.  At first he had spoken to her a time or two, as he had after he'd died the first time.  Then the communications had cut off completely, and her world had shattered.  She tried to stay strong for Gohan, but it hadn't stopped her from being miserable.

The man who was holding her now was giving her a chance at a real life again.  He was real; not just a memory that haunted her dreams.

She smiled at him and wrapped her arms around his waist, ignoring the fact that they were standing in the middle of her bathroom.  He frowned for a few moments, then she felt a hesitant arm wrap around her waist.

Chichi giggled softly.

Vegeta lifted a questioning eyebrow.  "I'm just trying to figure out how you're supposed to fit into my fairy-tale life," she told him truthfully.  "If you're supposed to be a part of happily ever after."

"You're comparing me to children's stories?"  He sounded disgusted.

She reached for the silky nightgown hanging off a peg on the wall, stepping out of his reach.  It would be better for her to stay covered during the night—to stay away from tempting Vegeta any further.  "My whole life has been a big fairy tale," she shrugged as she pulled the long gown over her head.  "You've got to fit in somehow."

Vegeta stood next to the tub, arms crossed over his chest, still examining her form despite the nightgown, and the lace dressing robe she'd just thrown over it.  Chichi laughed, realizing where he fit in.  "You're the evil tyrants henchman!"

"I may be evil," Vegeta hissed, offended.  "But I am no creature's henchman."

"Of course not."  She agreed firmly, not wanting to delve into his past.  He wasn't ready to get rid of his demons.  Not yet.  "It was just a fancy of mine to think of you that way—to try and fit you into what I believed in as a child."  She walked back out into her bedroom and collapsed onto her bed.

Vegeta followed her, eyeing the four magnificent dragons that made the posts and canopy.

Chichi knew she wasn't going to be able to get him to leave.  Judging from when she and Goku had accidentally bonded, he was going to want to be within sight of her for a few more days.  Not that she really minded.

She made a show of removing her dressing robe and crawling between the covers.

Vegeta stood at the foot of her bed, eyeing her appreciatively.

She arched an eyebrow and asked coyly.  "Aren't you coming to bed?  Or are you going to stand there and watch me sleep all night?"

From the flicker she felt in the part of her mind that was connected to him, she knew that was what he had intended to do.

She tugged her head towards the empty space beside her.  "You've earned the right to sleep in my bed, Vegeta."  She sighed.  "I belong to you now.  If you really wanted me to do something, I wouldn't be able to disobey you."  She watched with hungry eyes as he began to shed his spandex, revealing more and more muscle.  "But I also have the right to deny you certain things."  She smiled at the expression on his face as he joined her beneath the sheets.  "They're made of silk."

Vegeta shrugged and moved closer to her as she reached out to turn off the lamp, then settled down to sleep.  She shivered slightly as she felt his breath on the back of her neck.  "So tell me," he whispered, "why you can't disobey me, and yet you can still deny me?"

She rolled over to look at the canopy of her bed—where the four dragon-tail shaped posts met and wound together.  Yards of blue silk were draped over them—another gift from her aunt.  "You've brought out my Amazon side.  Amazons wish to be…superior…to their men at all times.  But the most valued men in their society are those that make us earn their respect."  She paused as a surprisingly soft hand began to caress her then continued, wishing she could purr.  "When you claimed me after our last spar, you made me yours—you earned my respect by defeating me in combat."  She stopped as his hand slid beneath her nightgown then continued in a softer tone.  "There are other things, but they're not important now."

"And what is?"  Vegeta questioned her, absolutely certain he would get his way that night.

"Sleep."  Chichi said firmly, burrowing into the pillow as his hand stopped on her thigh.  "I can't go on forever, no matter how badly I may want to do otherwise."

Vegeta grumbled, but she ignored him.  "Besides—I'll have a lot of explaining to do in the morning, and I can't do it properly when I haven't slept."

Rubbing her fingers across his arm in apology, she settled herself into bed.  "Besides, there's someone I need to go see in the morning before I talk to Gohan, who gets up with the sun."

Her mate wasn't happy, but he respected her wish, at least for one night.  He would never admit it to anyone, but the last few days had left him below his maximum level as well.  A night's sleep and a good meal would bring him back to his full, and give him the chance to experiment with the super-saiyan form.

He squirmed between the strange-feeling sheets for a few moments then cast a glance at his mate.  She lay on her side, the slow deep breaths indicating to him that she truly was asleep.  It took a strong woman to admit her weaknesses, he mused, slipping an arm around her waist and drawing her close so he could inhale the sweet scent of her hair and assure himself she really was still there.  Within a few minutes, the Saiyan Prince allowed himself to drift off into sleep as well.

In a room much further on down the corridor, the giant Ox-king settled into bed, mentally tallying the guests on his land.  Piccolo was out by the stream—and there was a group of hikers camped out by the river—in the small clearing he had created for that purpose.  They would move on in the morning.  Then there were the guests in the castle.  Gohan was in Taro's room—and Chichi was across the hall.  Her new man was with her.

Ox frowned.  He'd never really known the man before—but he knew enough to know that this man wasn't like Goku, whose great heart counteracted his great strength.  Vegeta was different.  His aura, his very ki itself, was tinged with darkness.  This man was dangerous in a way Goku could never be.

And his daughter had let him claim her.

After the King of Ox dozed off while pondering the new developments in his daughter's life, small pinpoints of light appeared by his window, glistening like stars in the night sky.  They whirled together to take the image of a woman in a white and gold toga.  Long flame-colored hair fell to her waist, and her eyes glowed golden in the darkness as she approached the man on the bed.

Had the king been awake, he would have been overjoyed to see the form of his wife standing by him, even if just for a few moments.  A glittering hand reached out and cupped one of the massive cheeks before running slender fingers through his soft beard.

Sorrow fell across the spirit's face, giving the woman the look of a Greek statue as she looked down upon her husband.  "It was not supposed to be this way," she whispered to the sleeping giant.  "The stars had our fates written much differently, but the gods interfered."

The molten hair floated along in an unseen breeze, and the woman made no effort to restrain it, wishing that she could wake the man who'd won her heart so many years ago.  "I'm sorry you cannot see me—but the she tells me it is not yet time.  And she is the mother, while I am a mere Princess-General.  I must obey her wishes."  A sad smile touched upon her face.  "She has even kept Taro from me, but I was allowed to watch him from a distance not too long ago."

One hand draped across the hilt of a shimmering sword.  "Our son is a fine warrior, well-versed in all the arts of war, not merely our own."  She sighed and stared towards the direction of her daughter's room.  "Chishali has the makings of a fine warrior as well.  Her strength will be needed.  A great calamity is coming to Earth—even the lowliest of spirits like myself can feel it."

She paused, glancing at the sleeping man.  "There will be much blood and heartache, that much is clear.  I fear that the brunt of it will fall upon the shoulders of our family and friends."  She was silent for a long moment, peering into the web of the future that she was allowed to see.  "Especially our grandchildren, Ox.  They will either defeat the coming menaces, or be devoured by them."  She paused for a long moment.  "I have no desire to meet them until they have become old themselves."  She leaned next to the ear of her sleeping husband.  "Remember that Chishali _must_ come into her birthright.  She is well on the way to accepting it—her new spouse will both aid and hinder her.  But she needs him—and she'll need you too."  Her soft voice was whispery as if carried on the end of an autumn breeze.

She pressed soft lips to his cheek as the sky began to lighten.  "My time here is up," she told him again as her body began to fade.  "But we will meet again, my love.  I promise."  The last words were nothing more than a whisper as the spirit faded away into nothingness.  "Remember."

The Ox-king sighed and opened his eyes as he stared at the place where the ghost of his wife had stood just a few minutes before.  He had been disrupted from a most pleasant dream by an even more pleasant presence nearby.  But his wife had been dead for years—although he had been certain he'd felt her near him.

He glanced out the window and rose, unconsciously using the vibes of Octavia's ghostly presence to remember her.

While the King of Frypan Mountain prepared himself for another day, his heir and grandson had just awoken, also remembering a nightly visitor to his room.  His mother had finally come to get him!  He hoped she would stay a few days, though.  He liked it up here with Grandpa Ox, and besides—he hadn't explored the whole mountain yet!

Last night his Grandfather had told him about a back room in his vaults—a cave that had a magical gem glowing in the wall.  He'd promised Gohan that they'd go visit the vaults deep inside the mountain today, and Gohan really wanted to go.  He'd never seen a magical rock before, unless you counted the Dragonballs, which were only rocks part of the time.  Grandpa Ox said he'd used one of the smaller gems from that cave in his mom's helmet, and Gohan really wanted to see it.

He hoped his Mom would let him.

The young demi-saiyan hopped out of bed and padded across the hall to his mother's room to ask her.  He thought she'd say yes—they always stayed a day or two when they visited Grandfather.  But it was always better to ask.  What if he and grandfather left before Mom woke up and she thought something had happened to them?

Gohan didn't like to worry her, so he thought it would be better if he told her where they were going.  Grandfather had said they'd leave right after breakfast—and he knew Mom would sleep through that if she'd gotten in really late.  He went back to his room and scribbled a note on a piece of paper he'd found in the desk.  At least now he wouldn't wake her up.

Stepping into the room, he noticed that he was right—she was still asleep.  He crept around the bed to put his note on the pillow beside her, where she wouldn't miss it.

There was someone already asleep there.

And the flame-like black hair could only belong to Vegeta.

Gohan's mouth dropped open at the sight of Vegeta.  The Saiyan Prince was sleeping in his mother's bed—in the spot where his father always slept!

Stunned and a little confused, he backed away from the sleeping couple and brushed against a side-table, knocking a perfume bottle to the carpeted floor.  It didn't break—but it landed with a loud thud.

The Saiyan Prince sat up immediately, eyes scanning the room.  They quickly settled on Gohan, who shrank back a little from the Prince's glare.  "What do you want, brat?"

At the sound of Vegeta's voice, Gohan was glad to see his mother wake up.  She sat up too, glaring at the Prince.  "What's going on?"

"Your brat," Vegeta sneered, "woke me up.  I asked him what he wanted."

Chichi stared hard at Vegeta for a second before turning to Gohan.  "Good morning Gohan," she greeted carefully, going very pale.

"What's Vegeta doing here?"  Gohan questioned, confused.  "I thought only Dad sleeps with you."

"Not anymore brat," Vegeta snarled, crossing his arms across his chest.

Chichi stared at him angrily, and he shut up.

"Mom?"  Gohan was thoroughly confused now.  "What's going on?"

Chichi shot him an angry glare before peering at her young son.  "Gohan," she began quietly, slipping out of the giant bed and coming to kneel in front of him.  "I know this is going to be hard for you…"

She trailed off as Gohan's eyes had landed on her throat, and his little face filled with fury.  "You said that Dad bit you there because he loved you," he said, his voice shaking in fury.  "In a way that a grown-up man loves his wife.  Dad hasn't been home in over a year—and you have another mark now.  Who did that to you?"

"Me."  Vegeta grunted and stalked across the room to stand over his mate and her brat.  "Your mother's mine now."

Chichi had both hands on Gohan's shoulders, as he turned silent for a long moment looking first at her, then at Vegeta.  His little body was taut beneath her hands, and she silently railed at Vegeta's harshness.

But what was done was done—and she only hoped she could fix it before Gohan exploded.

"Gohan?"

He turned betrayed eyes to her, and her heart sank.  "But what about Dad?"  He questioned in a quiet voice, begging her to tell him that this was all just a big mistake.

Chichi swallowed and looked at the floor for a second before answering him.  This was not going the way she expected.  "Gohan…I don't think your father is going to come back."

Gohan pulled away from her, furious.  "No!"  He yelled,  "Dad always comes back!"

"Gohan," Chichi tried to calm him down.  "It's been over a year since anyone has heard anything from him, even King Kai.  The galaxy's a big place, and there are a lot of strong warriors out there who don't like Saiyans."  She closed her eyes, not wanting to say more, but knowing it was the only way.  "Without anyone there to help him, it's quite possible that he didn't make it…"

Gohan shook his head in fury, tears welling up in the corners of his eyes.  "No," he repeated stubbornly.  "Dad's still alive!  He has to be!"  His gaze and voice turned accusing.  "You promised to love him forever!  And look what you've done!"

Before Chichi could say anything more her son turned and fled, slamming the door so hard it shattered into splinters across the marble floor.

* * * * * * * * * *

Please review!


	5. Into the Maelstrom

A/N:  Ok everyone.  Sorry it took so long—but so many possibilities and vacation kept me away from the computer and rewriting for a long time.  But it's here!

IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT:  For everyone on the update list (who should know already), and those of you who aren't, I've created a yahoo group for my stories—the _Amazon & Saiyan_ Arc, as well as _A Saiyan Homecoming._  I'm trying to clear out one of my inboxes for school, and it just happens to be the email address the mailing list is on.  The group gets all manner of exclusives, including some chances for artistic input and polls and such—as well as exclusives, and a chance to vote for what I work on next.  But if, by chance, you don't want to join the group, the list is just changing email addresses for a few chapters—to lady_adestine@yahoo.com .  After that, I will be running off the group alone.  Oh—btw…the group can be found at: www.groups.yahoo.com/group/nadialist/

Kristin, Bigin', Reina (2x—wow!), Dew777—thanks!

Clemen:  Thanks!  And as to who gets the girl—you'll just have to wait and see…(Only I really know…)  Keep reading!

Demon Queen:  Don't worry about it…do you want me to start sending stuff to a different email addy?  Just thanks for your support!

Secretsguirl:  You'll have to wait and see.

Daniel of Lorien:  I didn't go the Piccolo route—but that doesn't mean Gohan is going to be without help…but wait and see!  And thanks!

Mentally challenged:  You now have the longest review for this story!

Amelia:  Wait and see!

SaiyaSith:  Here it is—more pain, more angst, and more story!

Diane:  Thanks for all your comments—you bring up a lot of stuff I've been trying to accomplish—which lets me know my writing hasn't been too far off!  And Thanks!  (I'm slowly converting myself!)

Midnight Lilly—I wouldn't be that extreme—but well…Vegeta and Chichi do have an interesting relationship.

Sparkle:  You're welcome

Kiarene:  I agree with you, sometimes Goku can be a pansy—and the whole Amazon thing is about to get a lot more complicated!

Tokumei Kibon:  Hooray!  Stars, cookies, dragonballs, whatever prize you like!  You've picked up on something important!

Disclaimer:  I don't own Dragonball Z.

Amazon & Saiyan:  Consequences

By Nadia Rose

Chapter Five:  Into the Maelstrom

It was over.  Chichi stood at the edge of her father's property, chest heaving, staring off in the sky in the direction that she knew her son had flown off in.  Gohan was nowhere in sight, but she knew he had gone east, towards the sun.  The young Saiyan had quickly forced his ki down once he realized she was following him, but he hadn't quite been fast enough.  She'd already had a fix on him.  Unfortunately for her, she couldn't run fast enough to catch him, and now Gohan was gone.

There was nothing more she could do.

Chichi sighed and peered off into the distance one last time before she turned to go back down the mountain.  She was forced to take her time—it had been far too long since she had done any serious barefoot traveling, and now bruised feet joined her sore ankle in slowing her up.  The cold thin air chilled the sweat on her body and stabbed at her lungs, almost making her dizzy—Mt. Frypan and the surrounding area was at a higher elevation than her home on Mt. Paotzu.

By the time she reached the camping area, she was so dizzy she had to stop and rest for a few minutes, and leaned against a convenient boulder to regain her strength.  Unfortunately, the rock she was resting against was in plain view of the small group of campers staying in the clearing.  They stared at her, goggle-eyed, and Chichi's stomach lurched.  Not 15 minutes ago, a half-screaming woman had burst through their camp at almost inhuman speeds—and now she was lurched against a rock, probably looking like one of Shenlong's discarded chew-toys.  Their curiosity had been more than peaked, and she was in no mood to answer foolish questions.

The campers formed a loose-half circle around her and one woman came forward warily.  "Are you all right?"

Chichi sank to the ground and nodded.  "I'll be fine," she exhaled between gasps.  "I'm just not used to this elevation anymore."

The woman exchanged a glance with the man closest to her and frowned.  "That ground is cold, honey, you'll catch pneumonia before long."

The princess wondered if catching pneumonia would save her the trouble of having to sort her problems out immediately, but quickly cancelled that spurt of thought.  Gohan would still be angry, Vegeta would be surlier than usual, and her father would be stuck in the middle.  Delaying a resolution would only make things worse and allow Gohan's anger to exponentiate.

She sighed and wearily pushed her body up off the ground, all too aware of the watching men and her flimsy nightgown.  She silently accepted the blanket another of the campers had surfaced with and wrapped it around her shoulders.  "I'm sorry I disturbed your camp," she apologized reluctantly.  "Did you enjoy your time here on Mt. Frypan?"

The campers looked confused.  "I thought this was Fire Mountain," one exclaimed, pulling a map out of a nearby pack.

"Oh, it is," Chichi assured him quickly.  "You're not lost.  The locals just call Fire Mountain Mt Frypan because of the huge fires that raged here for years.  It was practically suicide to try and climb it."  She cut herself off before she could add that it was insanity to live there.

"So that explains the scorch marks and the trees," one man in thick glasses exclaimed, looking like Chichi had just told him the secret of life.  "I'm a geologist, and Jane here," he pointed to the woman beside him, "is a vulcanologist.  We noticed that all of the rocks around here are scorched, and the trees are very underdeveloped when you compare them to those on the next mountain."  He continued blathering, ignoring the others' warning glares.  "We were sure that there had to be some kind of catastrophe, but Jane couldn't find any volcanic vents in the area that would have contained the fire to this mountain—after all, there is a dead volcano in the vicinity and all…"

"Paul," one woman snapped, "We're on vacation, not in the middle of a lecture hall!"

"Sorry."  The man was silent for a whole twenty seconds—Chichi kept track—before blurting out.  "There had to be something to fuel the flames, because fires just don't burn for years without spreading, or burn at all without fuel."

Chichi forced a smile, despite the lump in her throat—they didn't know any better.  "There is a legend that has been passed down in my family for many centuries.  It says that in the time before time was even measured, demons roamed the earth, wreaking havoc and destruction wherever they went.  One of the most vicious was the fire demon, who left fires that could burn without fuel for years in its wake.  Legend has it that the demon was imprisoned in deep in the bowels of the earth beneath Fire Mountain, and the kinds who live there were rewarded for guarding the mountain with treasure beyond every imagination."

The campers looked at her like she was slightly insane, and Chichi couldn't blame them.  A crying woman in a nightgown had appeared from nowhere, and was lecturing them on ancient folklore.  "Are you saying that some mythical fire-god set some wildfires?"

"No," Chichi said flatly.  "I was only six when the fires came," she continued softly, trying not to hear her brother scream, "and I don't remember much about it," she lied calmly through her teeth.  "Only that it was hot."  She had to almost physically force herself to keep from twitching as memories of fire, pain and blood raced through her mind.

The low roar overwhelmed them as the fires spreading across the dry fields that the locals were too frightened to tend to.  The acrid taste of smoke that clogged her lungs and stung her eyes as they ran only heightened her panic.  The dusty path trembled as the demon came closer, her father's roar only a whisper in the background.  The tree in front of them caught fire, the great branches hissing as the flames took hold.  Her brother's hands turned hard and rough as he physically pushed her away, shocking her with his callousness.  Taro had never raised his hand against her in her life, especially after Mother had died.  He had put himself between her and the demon, giving his life to save hers.

Taro's sacrifice had been in vain—she wasn't able to run fast enough, and the demon had closed in on her, bringing unnatural heat and burning light that frightened her even more than the sound of did.  And then it had her; it had her by the ankles and it hurt; it hurt more than the molten metal Papa worked with and she couldn't get away, no matter how hard she screamed and struggled and it shook her by the shoulders and sent sparks cascading around them as those burning hands grabbed her hair…

"MISS!"

Chichi's eyes flew open to see the man and woman leaning over her, pale and worried.  "Are you all right?  You zoned out and almost started screaming."

The younger woman frowned, ignoring the headache she could feel coming on.  "I'm fine—really."  She managed a wobbly smile and handed the blanket back to them.  "Just some bad memories."

Their expressions were doubtful.  "Well," she said in a bit of a rush, "I have to head for home; there's always a mountain of things for me to do."

"Can we take you there?"  The woman asked.  "We rented a capsule vehicle—it's supposed to be good for most of the terrain around here."

The Princess shook her head.  "It will never make it across the river," she informed, feeling a familiar presence lurking nearby.  "I'll be fine—it's not that long of a walk."  She began slowly edging her way back into the woods.  "Enjoy your stay on Mount Frypan!"

Before they could react, she had melded back into the woods and was stumbling towards the familiar ki.  Vegeta came into view a few minutes later, propping up an ancient tree in an imperious manner.  She carefully picked her way beside him, resting her forehead against the tree's moss-covered bark.

"When this all smoothes over," she murmured to her mate, "I want you to teach me how to fly."

His surprise rolled across their bond to her.

"If I had flown, I could have caught Gohan today," she elaborated quietly.  "I could have started to settle us out with him.  Now I'll be lucky if I see him again in the next two months."  She paused, and then continued in a quiet voice.  "I've hurt him so badly he may never forgive me."

Vegeta grunted.  "He is a Saiyan.  They do not forgive easily."

She opened one dark eye to stare at him.  "Neither do the cultures that comprise his human half."  She moaned and tugged at a nightgown strap.  "It will take a miracle to make him come back before he's a man."  She sought for the slight ripple that was Gohan's ki, still heading east.  Her expression turned hard.  "At least he can survive on his own," her voice was bitter, "I ought to thank Piccolo for doing something right."  She wanted to lash out at something; anything to vent some of the anger roiling inside her, but she hadn't the strength.  It had all been sapped away by the morning's emotional roller-coaster ride and her desperate sprint after Gohan.  "He'll come back," she assured herself quietly.  "He still needs me."

Beside her, Vegeta snorted softly, wondering exactly when Gohan had decided he needed his mother.  The boy was utterly self-reliant like any young Saiyan; his mother clung a little too much for the comfort of everyone involved.

He glanced over at his mate, who had her entire body leaning against the old tree trunk; shoulders slumped, feet bleeding from running on the sharp rocks.  Her hair hung down her back in a mass of tangles, and when she opened her eyes, Vegeta saw the unguarded look of a female in considerable mental stress—for an instant, his mate looked like a heartbroken little girl.  It was just as swiftly replaced by the tacit expression she wore everyday; an emotional mask to be sure, but still a façade.  His Princess was a complex woman; as their bond continued to cement he was gradually becoming more and more aware of all the levels that made up who she was.  He found her multiplicity as fascinating as he did her fighting skills, something he could explore and savor for their uniqueness.

Considering fighting, his mate would be unable to spare with him until her feet were healed, although her pride would require she try.  He hoped that her sire had a full medical kit; he had seen far too many minor wounds that if left untreated, developed fatal infections.  He would not lose his mate to something as trivial as that.

He grabbed her round the waist and slung her over one shoulder before she could protest.  She tensed momentarily, then acquiesced and lay still.  "Just avoid the path," she requested from somewhere below his elbows.  "The campers are already too suspicious; and I can't take any more memories today."

* * * * * * *

Ox's breakfast preparations had been disrupted that morning by the sound of Gohan's shouting and departure, quickly followed by his daughter, and later, her mate.  A few hours had passed, and none of them had returned.  He'd left breakfast on the table and was making his way to his workshop, when Stewart, his chief steward, came running down the hall.  "I'm sorry for disturbing you, your majesty, but the Queen has been sighted approaching the village!"

Ox frowned—there was only one woman his people referred to as the Queen, and her presence was always so rare that he was never sure if he should be pleased or worried.  "You're sure it's her?"

"I know of no other women who ride a silver cloud," Stewart gushed, nearly panicking.  He was afraid of her and with good reason—last time she visited she had threatened to kill him.  "I came as fast as I could, but she's probably—"

The crash of the gong cut him off.

"Almost here," he finished weakly.

Ox heaved a mighty sigh.  "Ready the Blue room, please.  I don't know if she is staying, but we need to be prepared."

"Yes sir."  Steward inclined his upper body in a quick bow and scurried off to find one of the housekeeping crew.

Almost reluctantly, the giant king made his way to what had once been the front gate, where a figure shrouded in a heavy cloak waited next to the gong.  When he was within range, the woman removed her hood, revealing dark auburn hair almost the color of blood, a shade he had only seen on one other soul: that of his son.  Taro had died because he had not allowed them to go to this woman after her sister's death.

"Merebai," he greeted courteously.

Cool silver eyes met his for a moment before pink lips spread in a practiced smile.  "It's good to see you again, Gyuu," her musical voice was as firm as ever.  "I hope I'm not intruding."

"No," he returned politely, offering her his arm, "although I am curious as to what could possibly inspire you to leave your sauna of an island to visit my icebox here in the mountains."

His use of an old joke formed a twist of a bitter smile on her face.  "I am here to see Chishali," she announced as if he didn't already know that was the only thing she came for, resting her delicate hand on his forearm.  Ox covered it with his own huge hand, reminded that no matter how fragile these Amazon women seemed they were truly as strong as the rocks the planet was built upon.  And with those of the royal family, tempers fiercer than the great fires of the core.  "She is still here?"

"Yes," he answered as he led her across the courtyard.  "There was some trouble with Gohan this morning, and Chi-chan is out, but she'll be back later."

Merebai cocked her head.  "Trouble with your heir, Gyuu?"

Ox gave up on politeness.  "Chi-chan has taken a new mate," he told her bluntly.

Merebai's face showed none of the expressions he imagined it would.  Instead, she merely nodded.  "I know."  He must have radiated his confusion, because she smiled.  "The Seeress sees many things," she elaborated.  "Your grandson does not like him?"

"Gohan believes his father is still alive," Ox stated flatly.

"Son Goku is a survivor, so that may well be possible," Merebai allowed.  "But if Chishali was forced to look elsewhere for fulfillment, then he is not truly her husband."  She paused for a long moment.  "He has been gone for how long?"

"Four years, off and on," Ox replied stiffly.  All of this talk of abandoning mates made him uncomfortable.  What if his son-in-law was still alive?

One red eyebrow rose.  "Hmph.  She has lasted far longer than many could."  A long pause.  "Chishali has her duty to us to consider as well.  You have your heir, but we do not have ours yet."

Ox could no help from getting angry.  "My daughter is not a baby factory."  He was polite—but just barely.

"Of course she isn't!"  Merebai assured.  "No Amazon is.  Chishali and Medea are our heirs, but neither of them have a daughter, and they are not getting any younger."  With a practiced move, Merebai flicked her spectacular hair behind her shoulders.  Ox noticed that there were gray streaks running through it now—the Amazon was finally starting to show her age.

He looked down at the collected woman and reminded himself that Merebai's comments were a part of her culture; that his precious 'Tavia had been raised the same way, and they had lived together quite happily for years.  He could deal with her sister for a few days.  He was saved from thinking up a reply when her head turned to peer off up the mountain.  "They're coming back," she informed.  "I like the feel of his ki," she continued after a moment.  "It may seem dark, but inside it's as clear and firm as the base of the Fountain.  And Chishali's," her voice was smug, "is brighter than ever."

They were in sight then, the Saiyan Prince carrying his daughter, who was not pleased with the situation.  As soon as his feet touched the cobbled courtyard she tried to get down, but he wouldn't let her.  "I'm not an invalid Vegeta!  They're just scratched!"

Ox's gaze rested upon her feet, which were smeared red with blood, and he started to detach himself from Merebai's side to fetch a first-aid kit.  His sister-in-law was quicker.  She clapped her hands sharply, summoning Stewart from where he had been lurking in the shadows, awaiting instructions.  "Bring me a basin of water and some towels," she ordered.

Chichi's head snapped from where she had been locked into a staring contest with Vegeta.  "Aunt Bai?"

"Of course," the Queen of Amazons retorted with the first true smile Ox had seen from her yet.  "Am I not allowed to visit my favorite niece?"

Chichi's face broke into a weak smile—she was as fond of her mother's sister as the Queen was of her.  "I'm the only niece you're allowed to claim."

"Actually, I can claim Medea now too," Merebai was shedding her heavy cloak to reveal long sleeves and pants that seemed ludicrous to Ox—she couldn't actually be that cold.  She extended her hand to Chichi, neatly pulling the younger woman out of Vegeta's grasp and helping her hobble to a nearby bench.  "It took me ages to figure out how to keep her while keeping her bastard of a father alienated, but it's been done."

Vegeta was now giving her a stare that could have matched one of Octavia's.  Merebai didn't even flinch.

"How is Medea doing?"  Chichi questioned, ignoring her feet for the moment.

"Happy to be one of the family again, but she has no desire to be more than a Princess, ever."  Merebai slid off the bench as Stewart and Ox's housekeeper shuffled forward with a basin of steaming water and a first-aid kit.  "Just set them down," she ordered peremptorily.  "I can handle things from here."

"I can bandage my own feet!"  Chichi protested, looking uncomfortable at the thought of her Queen doing something so mundane.

"Feet are awkward to tend yourself," Merebai replied evenly, wetting a cloth.  "You tend for yourself all the time, Chishali.  At least let me do this much for you."  When Chichi started to protest, the woman gave her a stern look.  "No Chishali.  Just relax."

The Queen began to wash the girl's feet with practiced ease, continuing to chatter.  "So are you going to introduce me?  Or is guessing the name of the new family member some new fad I don't know about?"

Chichi had the grace to look abashed.  "Sorry.  I'd forgotten you hadn't met.  Aunt Bai, this is Vegeta, my mate.  Vegeta, this is my Aunt, Merebai D'Amazon."

Merebai looked up at Vegeta and nodded, since Vegeta made no effort to acknowledge the introduction.  "It is convenient to finally meet the Prince of Saiyans," she commented calmly, continuing to blot at Chichi's feet.  "I finally have a face to go with the name now."

Ox watched with very little surprise as the man focused all of his attention to her, hackles raised.  "How did you know that?"  
"Vegeta,' Chichi snapped.  "Aunt Bai is a Queen, you can't just…"

"It's all right, Chishali," Merebai soothed.  "Like ninety-nine point eight percent of our population, the Prince is not aware that the Amazons have aided the Guardian of this planet since before there was a Guardian.  Vegeta, on behalf of the only government acknowledging the fact that there are aliens on Earth, welcome to our planet."

Ox was pleased to see that while Vegeta wasn't pleased with his non-anonymity, he wasn't going to question it now.  Instead, his stomach rumbled, reminding Ox of the small market of food piled on one of the tables.  He beckoned Vegeta away, leaving the two women on their own to discuss whatever Amazon women talked about when alone.  He was just glad to be away from Merebai—before he decided to try and hurt her.

Chichi and Merebai watched as the two men left for the kitchens.  "You pressed Papa's buttons again," Chichi commented to her Aunt, wincing slightly as a slight movement of her foot broke a few scabs.

Merebai shrugged, strong fingers staunching the blood flow with a rag.  "I like your father very much—in fact, your mother never would have admitted she loved him if I hadn't coerced her into that tournament—but sometimes he needs reminding that we're still different than he is, no matter how much time passes."

"My taking Vegeta as a mate has reminded him," Chichi replied solemnly.

The middle-aged queen smiled mischievously up at her somber niece.  "I like Vegeta.  He's smart, and actually strong enough for you—and all that masculinity makes me heady."

Chichi looked aghast.  "He's mine," she warned firmly.

"Of course he is," Merebai assured.  "Do you love him?"

Chichi thought for a long moment as Merebai opened the first aid kit and began to pull out bandages and salve.  "I could," she admitted to her aunt.   "I could very easily, if it weren't for Gohan."  Her voice broke, and she continued in a half-wail.  "They're going to make me choose between them, and I can't do that!  I can't choose between my son and my mate."

Merebai slid up onto the bench beside her niece and wrapped her slim arms around the teary-eyed Princess.  "Hush, hatchling.  It will all work out; the Gods do nothing without reason."  She rubbed the younger woman's back.  "You won't have to choose between your mate and your issue; it will just take time for everyone to come around."

Chichi sighed and sniffed, emotional balance regained.  "Are you sure?"

"Of course, hatchling," the Queen assured, the few lines on her face deepening with concern.  "Thinking like that isn't good for someone in your condition."

Confused, Chichi stared at her Aunt.  "But all I did was cut my feet—I'll be fine in a few days."

Merebai flashed her a startled glance, one eyebrow raised.  "Yes you will," she began slowly.  "All you need to do is stay off your feet for a day or two—you heal quickly."  She sank back to the cobblestones to finish bandaging said feet.  "So is Vegeta as strong as his ki says he is?"

Merebai looked up when Chichi didn't answer, only to find the Princess had gone pale, and was trembling slightly.  "Chishali?  Hatchling?"

Chichi made no indication she'd heard anything, but continued to stare into the thin air, eyes unfocused and muscles tensed.  Merebai grasped her shoulders and shook them hard until her niece was actually looking at her.  "Hatching, tell me what's wrong.  Now."

The voice that came out of the girl's mouth sounded like she was speaking through a tunnel; her mind was far away while her body was still on the bench.  "Gohan."  Chichi whispered.  "My baby's in trouble."

Before Merebai could respond, onyx eyes rolled back into her head and Chichi slid off the bench into unconsciousness.  Merebai cushioned her head before it connected with the hard cobblestones and began to call for Ox.

* * * * * *

Gohan flew.  He didn't care where he was going; all he knew was that it needed to be far, far away from his mother and Vegeta.

His father couldn't be dead!  He just couldn't!  Sure, he'd died before, but that had been different.  He'd promised to come back, and he had.  But he hadn't died this time!  He'd just said he didn't want to come home yet.

Gohan froze.

Didn't Dad love them anymore?  Was that why he hadn't come home, because he didn't love them?

Furious with himself for even thinking that, Gohan picked up speed again.  Just because Dad didn't love them anymore didn't give Mom the fight to find a new mate (Gohan thought that was the right word).  Mom and Dad had promised to love each other forever when they got married, hadn't they?  They'd both broken that promise:  Dad stayed away because he didn't love them anymore—if he still loved them he would have come home already!  And Mom had given his place to Vegeta.

The boy snarled.  What kind of man mated with the wife of the man who'd spared his life?  Where was the honor in that?

Gohan really didn't care.  All he knew was that everything in his life was suddenly wrong, and he wanted to be as far away from it as possible.

So he flew.  He didn't care if people could see him, didn't care that he was hungry, and he didn't care that Piccolo was following him.  He didn't want to talk to Piccolo right now anyway.  All he wanted was to be left alone so he could think, and so he flew.  Right into the heart of the thunderstorm brewing before him.

* * * * *

"Dad, this is getting really bad," Bulma commented to her father.  "I've never flown through a storm this bad before."  She had both hands wrapped around the stick of their high-speed jet as she battled the intense winds.  "All we need is one lightning bolt to knock out the electrical systems and we've had it."

Doctor Briefs, as usual, was far too busy staring at various instruments to realize the sort of danger they were in.  They couldn't fly above the storm, were too light to be flying through the storm, and in the middle of the worst lightning storm Bulma had seen in her lifetime.  With every flash, her instruments went haywire and she couldn't see anything outside the cockpit.  It was pitch black outside; without her compass she'd be lost and thrown off course.

A bolt of lightning streaked across the sky, briefly illuminating the outside world and giving Bulma's already frazzled nerves another pull.  "Damn it," she swore as the compass began to spin.  "We're never going to make it home."  She risked removing one hand from the stick to tap the cover of the compass hard.  "I thought you said you shielded the compass," she snapped at her father.

"I did, dear," Dr. Briefs replied.  "With an alloy of—"

Bulma cut him off.  "I don't care what it is," she roared.  "But it's not working!"

A huge wind gust broadsided them, and Bulma worked to keep the jet as steady as possible.  When she'd gotten it under control, Doctor Briefs picked his glasses up from the floor and put them back on his nose.  "My, it is getting bad, isn't it?" He observed.

"Yeah Dad," Bulma replied through gritted teeth as she guided the jet through a small opening between clouds.  "It is."

They sat in silence as Bulma battled the storm, quickly dodging the ferocious lightning bolts.  "Why do we have to be the only metal object flying through this storm," Bulma moaned as she narrowly missed another one.

"At least the protective coating on the hull is working," Doctor Briefs commented.

But Bulma was too busy to take notice.  In the light provided by the deadly energy beams she could see another figure approaching on a direct course for them.  She hoped it wasn't a plane, because the radio was out and she couldn't signal them to warn of her presence.

The object was moving too fast to be a plane.  Bulma fumbled for the magnifying goggles on her helmet and gasped.

It was Gohan—flying out in the storm with eyes closed, dodging the lightning.  What was the 7-year-old doing out here on his own?

Bulma realized with a sickening lurch that Gohan didn't know they were there—the storm raged over the sound of their engines.  He was still heading straight for them.  Even through she knew it was futile, Bulma began screaming his name.  Fortunately her terror spiked her puny ki enough that Gohan took notice.

He opened his eyes just in time to face down the nose of a huge jet.

By a physics-defying miracle, he managed to stop and slide out of its way.  He slid right into the path of a lightning bolt that Doctor Briefs' experimental new coating had deflected off the hull.

Bulma screamed in horror as she saw the boy disappear into the light.  When it faded, he was gone—the sky next to the jet was empty.

There was only one direction he could have gone.

Without even thinking, Bulma pushed the jet into the steepest nosedive she could withstand and followed.

She had to find Gohan.

* * * * * * *

Please Review!


	6. Whispers in the Night

Yes, I know it's taken me ages, but I've finally gotten around to writing the next chapter!  Hope you find it worth your wait!  (First signs of plot poke their heads through the character interactions)

Saiyasith:  Thanks!  And yes, the Amazons have a major bond, although it isn't necessarily a mating bond, although there is often a connection between spouses.  Merebai is just enlightened about Saiyan deals, and thinks of marriage as sort of a contract.  I'll all be explained later….I promise!

Elektra642000:  Ok…here we go, reply-by-number

1.) Yup—mythology/fantasy is my goal, at least for the next chapter or two.

2.) Thanks—Vegeta's not the easiest to write, but I'm having fun with him.  Wait until I stick him into the middle of Amazonia…lots of fawning women ;)

3.) Yeah, I find him very interesting—so I'm developing him a bit.  Why shouldn't he have a little bigger part?

4.) Thanks!  Wait until you meet her sister.  Octavia's even more kick-butt.

5.) Again, Thanks!  She's a possessive thing, isn't she?

6.) Thanks!  I don't like the whole bond as an annoyance thing, so once again, I'm doing it my way!

And as for Gohan….I have plans for him.  Thanks for reviewing!

evilcarrot:  Thanks!

Bigin':  I'm not done yet with my dear little Gohan…the poor boy hasn't learnt about stress yet!  Just wait and see…I promise not to damage him too badly!  Thanks for the review!

Kiarene:  Woohoo!  Thanks!  Let's see---lots of strong females to come, I promise…and Chichi needed someone on her side, so naturally it's Merebai…and I'm trying to steer away from sappy, although I think I may have fallen into those boundaries a bit in this chapter.

Sparkle:  Telling who ends up with whom would majorly ruin the story!  But I will say that Chichi isn't going to end up with a man she wasn't already with at the beginning of this story.  (but remember, two bond marks!)  And yes, I enjoy V/CC very much!

C-Bear:  I promise I won't kill Gohan—at least by any way that he cannot be wished back.  And just read on to see what happens next!

Discussion group/mailing list and home to my few drawings:

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/nadialist/

Disclaimer:  I don't own DBZ.

Amazon & Saiyan

Chapter 6:  Whispers in the Night

Vegeta shifted in the chair yet another time, unable to sit still any longer.  He'd been watching his mate sleep since the King had carried her up here, and with no outlet for his massive energy, he was quickly growing frustrated.  He was used to training all day long—or familiarizing himself with the features on this blasted planet that he had so conveniently become stuck upon.  Never before in his life had he stayed in one place for so long—not even his home planet.

Restless eyes settled down on the figure dwarfed by the massive bed that she still slept in.  There were a few things on this planet that redeemed its downfalls.  Two actually.  The first was what had brought him here—those blasted Dragonballs.  And the second, more redeeming feature, was that it had produced her.

The Saiyan Prince rose and stood over his mate, studying her features.  There was a bruise on her cheek that was yellowing nicely—and he'd left the imprint of his fingers on her arms in the form of a vivid blue bruise.  Vegeta carefully examined the rest of the skin he could see—most of these bruises had appeared overnight, making his mate look like a battered woman.

He gently traced a line of unmarked skin across her clavicle, pausing to prod delicately at his bite mark, which had almost entirely healed.  While his fingers hovered over the other mark, which had not diminished, something caught his attention.

There was something…some sort of mark, upon her breast.  One that he'd never seen before.  He pulled at the neckline of her nightgown to examine it closer.  A tiny red flame was imprinted above her heart—neither scar nor tattoo.  It looked like some sort of birthmark, almost…but Vegeta knew that it couldn't be.  Birthmarks, at least Saiyan ones, faded at maturity—and as far as he knew so did most humans'.

The stocky Saiyan Prince leaned over his mate and brought his eyes down closer to the intriguing mark, examining it in minute detail.  Too perfect to be a birthmark, it looked like someone had taken a tiny hot poker and carefully drawn a handful of flames over her heart.  He knew he hadn't seen it before, and that humans didn't have marks that just appeared and disappeared.

He wondered if the red-haired woman knew what was going on.  She understood why his mate had simply passed out, but she hadn't explained it to him, only said that there was nothing they could do but wait for her to wake up.  Vegeta tried to find her ki, but found that hers was just as non-existent as his mate's was.  The King was somewhere across the castle, but he had learned long ago to never disturb a ruler when they were busy.

Resigning himself to wait until his mate could explain things to him, his gaze wandered around the set of rooms that she called her chambers.  There was the bedchamber, which they were in now and a bathroom the size of her kitchen at Mt. Paotzu.  There was one more door connected to the other side of her bedroom that Vegeta had not been through yet.

Curious, Vegeta strode over to it intending to see what was inside, but was stopped by someone coming through the main door.  The Queen stood in the doorless opening, plaiting the ends of her long hair.  She nodded to him.  "Going in there without permission is a good way to make your mate angry at you, Vegeta."

Vegeta rolled his eyes.  "She is my mate—she will do what I wish."

"If you say so," Merebai chuckled.  "The first time you make her really mad you may change your mind."  She cocked her head and stared at him for a moment before sighing slightly and straightening up in the armchair she had just sat down in, looking down at him in a royal manner.  "Would you sit down?  I need to ask you something."

Vegeta glared at her.  "What would I know that you need," he shot back, disgruntled with being left out of the loop.

"You, my dearest nephew," Vegeta bristled, "have been one place I've never been and will never be able to go," Merebai said calmly, folding her hands in her lap.  "Off this planet."

Vegeta grunted.  "Fine.  What do you want?"

The woman known among her people as the Silver Wolf, watched him solemnly, eyes dark with a reluctant sympathy.  "Tell me about Frieza."

The change that came over the tense Saiyan was fast and drastic.  His eyes narrowed in anger, and with a flash of light and a lightning quick ki-spike, he had gone Super-Saiyan, shattering the door he was still holding onto.

"Frieza is an abomination," he spat roughly, eyes burning with rage, "a tyrant without honor."

Merebai continued to sit in her chair, not even reacting to the man's transformation; or his anger.  She merely nodded and supported her chin with one thumb, fingers folded across her lips in thought.  "Warriors without honor," she mused quietly, "are generally either absurdly predictable or wickedly impossible to deal with."  She glanced up at him, her eyes bottomless depths of worried pewter.  "This Frieza; he is a cunning man?"

Vegeta paced across the thick carpet like a caged lion, each and every step tracked by the keen eyes of the Queen.  "He takes great pleasure in creating pain," he finally growled.  "The pain of others, too powerful to waste, but to weak to resist.  If he has no use for something it is simply destroyed and never spoken of again."

The Queen was silent for a long moment.  "And does he have a weakness?"

"Why would you want to know?"  Vegeta retorted.  "This planet and its weakling inhabitants mean nothing to him.  He had Kakarot sent here to destroy it.  If anything, he would send someone to finish the job—but he has far too many other important things to deal with.  Your planet is of little consequence in the ways of galactic politics."

A blood red eyebrow lifted in an arch towards her hairline.  "If this planet means so little, then how did you end up here?"

Vegeta rolled his eyes.  "It is none of your business, woman.  I am here because I choose to be."

The Queen drew herself to her full height in the chair, radiating not a physical power, but a mental one eerily reminiscent of his own father's.  "If your presence here endangers this planet or its inhabitants in any way, Prince of Saiyans, it is my business."  She glanced at the dark-haired woman still asleep in the bed.  "I know why you stay—but what brought you here in the first place?"

Vegeta stared at his mate as she lay still, eyes tracing the now-familiar contours of her face, similar to the woman who sat in the chair a few feet away, the tiniest hints of a smile at the corners of her mouth as she watched him.  "Power," he admitted.  "I sought the power to defeat Frieza; and the Dragonballs were the easiest way to do that.  With immortality, I could train until I had become the legendary Super-Saiyan without worrying about dying."

"Some things," Merebai assured him with a knowing smile, "come best without the aid of forces we cannot grasp."

Vegeta crossed his arms across her chest.  "When the time is right," he vowed, "Frieza will pay for his crimes against my people."

"There is a time and a place for everything under the heavens," the red-haired woman quoted some popular Earthling phrase the Saiyan had heard many times.  Then she looked back at Chichi.  "Your people's revenge will come in time, Vegeta, but you must let it come to you."  Before he could comment, she continued.  "Frieza.  His weakness?"

"Power," Vegeta snorted.  "Legend has it that a Super-Saiyan would defeat him, and he has spent his entire life becoming stronger in hopes that he would be strong enough when the time came.  Why he destroyed my people—why he wanted the Namekian Dragonballs."

Merebai nodded.  "The Dragonballs can do amazing things; but even they have limits.  Now that he thinks you are dead, will he continue on his quest for their wishes?"

"They can increase his power without any effort on his part.  He will only stop when he has his wish, or is dead," Vegeta reasoned.  And Vegeta's reasoning said clearly that Frieza wasn't dead.  Kakarot couldn't have killed the man who had killed all of his people.  That right was reserved for Vegeta alone; besides, the Ice-jin was far too stubborn to die and stay dead.  Vegeta's chance would come soon—he was sure of it.

The Queen sighed.  "I had thought as much, but I needed to hear it from someone who knew more of him than what you hear along the Godly grapevine."  She rubbed her eyes wearily.  "This Frieza sounds like a formidable opponent."

Vegeta glared at her.  "What do you know?"

Merebai shrugged.  "Nothing that you do not know yourself; whispers in the night, too tenuous to be rumors.  Just instincts that I must follow or discard as the evidence shows.  When it comes to physical safety from outside sources the lives of every creature on this planet, including that of the Kami, rest upon my shoulders, and my shoulders alone.  I must be prepared for every possibility that may occur.  There are many different sets of dragonballs scattered around the galaxy; it is very likely that Frieza will find one of them."  

"And if he comes anyway?"

She studied him for a moment, judging.  "There are greater treasures on this planet than the Dragonballs, most of them kept secret from me.  It is my duty to protect them—to keep them, whatever they may be, from falling into the wrong hands.  If I have to destroy the Dragonballs to keep my planet safe, I will do so without hesitation."  She closed her eyes for a moment.  "If he comes, we will be ready for him."

Vegeta snorted.  "You will never be ready for Frieza.  Not even the Saiyans were, and look what happened to them."

Merebai glanced at his mate again, then looked him straight in the eye.  "They're not as gone as you might think, Vegeta," she murmured quietly.  "I will be back when Chilashi wakes; I have other matters to see to."  She rose from her chair in a fluid movement and glided back out the door, leaving Vegeta where he had been in the first place; alone with his mate, with nothing to do but sit and think.  Except this time, he had something to think about.

* * * * * * *

She was in a world of darkness and light, two extremes, fighting for domination.  The sky and landscape around her was blacker than the depths of Vegeta's eyes, randomly transformed into a world of pure light by vicious lightning clashes.

There was no thunder.

The Amazon Princess picked herself up off the ground and rubbed an ache in the webbing between her thumb and forefingers.  Her fingers came away crimson from the blood that drizzled from a bite mark that had appeared there.

Chichi lifted her hand to the base of her throat, checking to see if either of the marks there was bleeding.  Her hand found only smooth, unmarred flesh; the two wounds that had sealed her to two different men were gone, as if they had never existed.

Withdrawing her hand as if burnt, the young woman looked around her, taking stock of her surroundings in the strobe light effects created by the clashing of extreme light and darkness.  With a sickening lurch, she realized exactly where she was; a place sacred to all Amazons, but most especially its royal family—the heavy stones so carefully placed around her had seen many dynasties of rulers come and go.

Walking slowly through the heavy black mist that permeated the air around her, she made her way to where the entrance to the cave should be, and it was—except the guards always posted there were gone.  Not gone, she corrected herself grimly as her world became white again for a few seconds.  Dead.  There were two figures crumpled on the ground a few feet away, bodies locked in the unnatural stiffness of death.

She leaned over the closer one, tentatively brushing back a strand of the woman's light red hair to see if she recognized her.  Hands clamped over her mouth in horror, she sprang back from the body, silent tears streaming down her face.  The light amber eyes staring blankly up at the sky belonged to her mother.

Chichi didn't understand.  Her mother had been dead for almost two decades now, and she hadn't died in battle, as the wounds across the body suggested.  Octavia Mao had died at home in her bed from the effects of the poison—not like this.

Biting down on her lip, she approached the second body, and after a glimpse of that face, the woman backed off.  The second guard was her Aunt Merebai; she had a shattered Dragonball in one hand, her sword in the other, and some sort of stake through her heart.

"Mom!"  A very familiar boy's scream shattered the silence.

Chichi whirled towards it, forgetting the gruesome sight at her feet.  "Gohan," she called back, praying he would answer her.  "Gohan!"

"NO!"  The voice shrieked, echoing throughout the opening that the two dead women had died protecting.  "No—DON'T!"

Without pausing to think, Chichi strode to the body of her mother plucked the sword from where it had fallen when she'd died.  The glint of a small crossbow caught her attention—she untied the quiver belt from Octavia's waist and wrapped it around her own.  Pausing only long enough to collect her Aunt's sword and dagger, she darted into the cave that stretched into the very bowels of the earth.

The stairs seemed to go on forever, but she didn't slow down or pause to catch her breath, just continued to run—sometimes jumping down twenty or thirty steps at once.  After what seemed like an eternity, she'd finally traversed the entire length of the staircase and come out into the caverns below—and into another mass of bodies.

She spared them only a single glance—they were obviously dead and there was nothing she could do about it.  If she had bothered to look closer, she would have seen a few familiar figures among them; a man with three eyes, another one with a set of scars on his face, and a third with no hair.  But the Princess didn't look close enough for her attention was entirely on the little boy at the end of the cavern, peering into the next with a horrified expression.

Chichi nearly choked when she saw him.  Her baby was nothing but skin and bones—paler than alabaster, and the skin that his gi wouldn't cover was dotted by tiny paired scabs; old wounds not yet healed.  She nearly sobbed; he'd never looked this bad, not even after battles that had left him in need of hospitalization.  Kneeling next to him, she reached out a hand to stroke back the unkempt hair, but he didn't notice her.  "Gohan?"  She questioned softly.  "Gohan?"

The boy didn't even blink, continuing to stare at something out in the main cavern.  Chichi looked to see what was going on and instinctively planted one hand over Gohan's eyes.  There, in the shallows of the Fountain pool, a woman with long black hair lay flat on her back within the waters, locked in passion with a short man with flamelike hair and a long brown tail.

She bit down on her lip and averted her eyes as the soft moans echoed throughout the cavern, recognizing the woman to be herself, and the Saiyan as Vegeta, mimicking the events of a few nights ago.  What was going on?  Why was Gohan here?  Why were they all here in general?  This was a sacred place; to mate here was blasphemous!

The sounds coming from the Fountain chamber increased in intensity, and Chichi wished she had a third hand to cover Gohan's ears with.  This was private—no sight for a little boy; although she had to admit the view she had of Vegeta here was rather nice.  She stopped that train of thought abruptly and flushed.  _You're in the middle of a vision,_ she scolded herself, _and all you can do is think like a hormonal schoolgirl?_

She glanced up in time to see Vegeta's mouth find her other-self's neck, and hear her hoarse cry as he bit down and left his mark.  She turned even redder if that was possible, and physically inserted her body between Gohan and the sight, although she realized that she couldn't interact with anything living here.

The next scream she heard was not one of pleasure; it was one of pain, fear, and anger.

She let go of Gohan and whirled, and what she saw sickened her.  The woman (it was much easier to think of her as a stranger than herself), who Chichi could see was now in the formal robes of an Amazon Queen, had just pushed the Saiyan off of her and risen, rocking unsteadily on her feet.  The Saiyan was staring at her, his eyes glinting red in the darkness.  "What was that for, wench?"

"You know exactly what that was for," the woman's voice was colder than a dead star. "You bit me!"

"Of course I did," the Saiyan purred in a low voice, stepping close to her, rubbing his thumb across the wound that was bleeding openly at her throat—staining the blue silk of her outfit with scarlet pools.  "We needed a reunion."

The woman glared at him.  "Not like this, Vegeta.  Not like this."  She sighed and closed her eyes, visibly weakening.  "We had something once; but never again."

Vegeta prowled closer to the woman, whispering something so tainted with foreboding that Chichi felt her blood freeze in her heart.  "We could be great together, you know," he whispered seductively.  "With your powers and my strength no-one could stand before us.  Not even them."

The woman's face hardened as she stared unflinchingly at the Prince.  "And what happens once there is none to stop us?"  She shook her head, the glittering waters of the Fountain shimmering in her long black tresses.  "I will sell my soul to save my planet, but I will not become what I have fought so long against."

Vegeta's laugh was mocking.  "And what will you do once your precious planet is safe?  We have become monsters—they will kill us anyway.  All of us.  He has made you and the others a danger to your own planet."  He leaned closer, tracing the line of her cheek in a curiously gentle gesture, tail lashing almost lazily behind him.  "It doesn't have to be this way.  There are places where you would still be the Queen of Earth.  Join me."

The woman shook her head, setting her blood red lips into a firm line, black eyes snapping.  "No.  Earth is my home.  I will not abandon it."

The forceful statement triggered a change so forceful in the Saiyan it was like passing from pure sunlight into the deepest darkness.  With a low growl, he transformed into what Chichi knew was called Super-Saiyan, lifting a hand to develop a ki blast.  "So be it, woman.  You have decided your own fate."

The woman stepped backwards calmly, continuing to retreat despite the fact that she was now waist deep in the Fountain's waters.  "Do your best," she answered firmly.  "There will be another to take my place.  You can't wipe us all out."

Vegeta snarled.  "I can exterminate you one at a time."

"NO!"  A boy's voice shrieked, and Gohan slid around Chichi to insert himself between his mother and Vegeta.  "Don't!"

The Saiyan Prince scoffed.  "Get out of the way, boy.  Your mother has had her chance."

"No."  The boy repeated stubbornly.  "You can't kill her!  She's all I have left!"

The woman showed no visible expression, although she kept glancing at the boy.  "Gohan," she ordered quietly.  "Please stay out of this."  She turned her attention to the Prince.  "Hurts, doesn't it?  To know how it feels to have your own turned against you?"  She sent him a cold smirk.  "Now you know how I have lived these last few years."  She approached him, the waters coating her skirts and making them shine like mercury.  "Quite the quandary, eh, my Prince?  It is your duty to kill your traitorous mate, but will you do so at the alienation of your only subject?"

Vegeta snarled.  "I have my orders."  The ki blast was pulsating in his hand, the woman flinching with each bright flash.  Faster than Chichi could follow, he directed it towards the woman, but the boy stepped between the blast and its target.  It hit him squarely in the chest, killing him instantaneously.

"No!"  The woman and Chichi shrieked in one breath.  Before Chichi could react, the woman had summoned a black-handled blade to her hand, charging at the Saiyan Prince with inhuman speed.  As a tiny bit of Gohan's blood trickled into the Fountain's waters, the pool began to churn, the silvery substance vibrating with the energy of Earth.  The planet was angry—angrier than Chichi had ever felt it.  Pure raw energy began to collect and gather above the waters, a miniature storm brewing deep within a cave.

Chichi rushed forward to her son's body, gathering him in his arms, checking vainly in any hope that he could have possibly survived that blast.  He hadn't.

The woman's anguished scream pulled Chichi's grief-filled gaze back to the twisted battle before her.  This woman who wore Chichi's face moved with deadly grace, channeling scarlet ki down the length of her blade.  Vegeta didn't even have a chance to react, such was the strength of her anger.  His head was separated from his body with a single stroke of the swinging blade, both falling to the ground in a dull thud.

Sobbing softly, the woman turned back to her son's body, ignoring Chichi's presence.  She held him against her bloodied chest, continuing to wail.  As Chichi watched, the woman's grief was cut off when her breath left her.  Startled, she lifted a hand to her throat, which was still bleeding ribbons down onto both her ice-and-navy clothes and the body of her son.  She was bleeding to death.

In slow motion, the fiery eyes widened, the last vestiges of strength draining rapidly from her body.  With one quiet last gasp she looked up straight into Chichi's eyes and smiled.  Then, still clutching the body of her son, she fell gracefully back into the Fountain, which immediately began to roil.

Numb, Chichi watched as the Queen and her child were consigned into that which every earthling came from.  She had just watched her son's death—and her own.  Shock coursed through her veins like icy water, rendering even the simplest thoughts impossible.

But she wasn't done yet.  The sound of footsteps sounded behind her, and a spiky-haired man in an orange gi bounded into the room, stopping at the sight of the bodies resting beneath the wavy surface of the Fountain.  Many expressions flitted across his face, confusion, followed by anger, grief, and finally, sadness.

Goku turned to look at her—and he actually saw her, something indefinable in his eyes.  "You could have stopped this!"  He cried out, looking angrier than she had ever seen him.  "Why didn't you?"

Before Chichi could answer, the storm roared to life.  Lightning struck across the cave, filling it with such brightness that Chichi was forced to close her eyes, still hearing the man's question echo in her mind.

When she opened them again, she was staring at the four entwined dragon-tails that made up the canopy of her bed at Mt. Frypan.  The warm blankets that had been pulled up to her shoulders did nothing to ward away the chill encompassing her body.  She turned her head without lifting it from the pillows, sensing her mate's presence in the room with her.

Vegeta was sitting on the floor, legs crossed, chin resting in one hand.  His feet were bare—his boots sat next to his elbow, gloves stuffed in them so the fingers stuck out the top.  Eyes closed, his entire posture screamed deep thought to her; he wasn't aware that she had woken.  There was a tiny little crease between his brows, indicating he was thinking.  It was begging to be touched.

Gathering her strength, she slipped out of the high bed, wincing as sore muscles reminded her of the stress she had put her body through in the last few days and the room spun slightly.  Moving gingerly, she crossed the few steps to where her mate sat and settled herself in the carpet across from him.  She reached out and caressed the soft line that had formed above his nose.

Dark eyes snapped open and a hand reached up to catch her with the speed of a striking cobra.  He held her hand a few millimeters away from their intended target, regarding her crossly.  "You're awake."  His voice was gruff.

"No," she replied, a bit of an edge to her voice, "I'm still asleep in bed.  What are you doing on the floor?"

"What are you doing on the floor," he retorted, easing the steel grip he had on her wrist.  "You should be in bed."

She lifted a shoulder, ignoring the strap of her nightgown as it slid down one arm.  "I'm fine; you looked like you have enough to worry about."

He shook his head.  "It is nothing that concerns you."

Chichi lifted her brows and squished her behind more firmly into the thick carpeting and studied her mate's face.  He was wearing an expression that she had seen many times during her few stays in Amazonia, and worn it just as often herself.  "Aunt Bai said something to you, didn't she?"  

His fingers twitched slightly on her wrist, which was now in his lap, and she knew she had struck the nail squarely on the head—with a sledgehammer.  "Don't worry about it too much," she advised, rubbing delicate circles on his arm with her captive fingers.  "Aunt Bai has a talent for making the people around her…question themselves.  She was trained to do that ever since she was a little girl."

The Saiyan shrugged his broad shoulders.  "Her methods are very effective."

Chichi sighed and pulled her wrist free from his grip but kept her hand in his.  "Don't let her bother you.  She just takes her duties very seriously."  She was silent for a long moment.  "I need to go find her…she and Papa are down in the family room."  She pulled her hand free from his and rose to her feet, willing the cottony feeling in her mouth and the dizziness to flee.

A hand grabbed her elbow, steadying her as the room continued to whirl.  Vegeta was standing behind her, keeping her grounded as she swayed.  Before she could protest he had lifted her against his chest, cradling her like a small child.  "You should be in bed," he informed, intending to put her back there.

Chichi shook her hand and grabbed the front of his spandex shirt.  She'd spent a lifetime in that bed—she didn't want to go back.  She _had _to talk to her Aunt.  "No, I'll be fine."  He stopped, holding her a few inches above the feather mattress.  "Put me down; please?"

He dropped her gently onto the mattress.

She glared at him, and he stared back, daring her to say anything.  She took his challenge.  "This isn't what I had in mind."

He grunted.  "You said you wanted down."

She rolled her eyes and pushed herself to a sitting position before swinging out of bed.  This time, however, she didn't even so much as put weight on her feet before the dizziness overwhelmed her.  She sat on the bed, clutching the nearest post for dear life while waiting for the world to reorient itself.  When it finally did, Vegeta's eyes were only a few inches away from hers.  "There is something wrong with you," he grunted, eyes flashing in anger.  "They said you would be fine."

"I should have been," she admitted, rubbing at her aching brow.  "But something's happened and I'm not sure what it is."  She yawned and leaned her head against the scarred post.  "Aunt Bai should have some idea…she's been dealing with this kind of thing years longer than I have."

Vegeta frowned.  "Where is this family room they are in?"

His mate considered his question.  "They're in the one by the kitchens, but it's raining…so you can't go through the courtyard."  She looked to the window, where lightning streaked across the sky.  "Down the hall on this level is a staircase—on the next floor down there will be a door painted red.  On the other side of that door is another staircase.  You have to go down two flights of stairs there—and there is a hallway that will take you down past the statue of Herne the Strong.  You take the passage to the right, and…" she sighed and abruptly changed her mind.  "It will be easier to show you myself."

Before she could try to get up again, Vegeta reached down and picked her up again, this time arranging the woman who was tall as he was in a position that he could carry her easily in, while still giving her the ability to observe her surroundings.  While this place wasn't quite as expansive as Capsule Corps, it was a labyrinth of tiny rooms, half-hidden passages, and corridors that looked too much alike for him to keep his bearings.

His mate, predictably, struggled in protest.  He shifted his balance as she did, slightly amused that she had been practically forced into his arms three times today.  If he didn't know any better he would have thought he was softening—but she was his mate.  Any pain on her behalf would eventually trickle over to him.  Vegeta had enough to worry about without hurting himself with his mate's pain.  "Hold still," he ordered.  "Struggling will not make me put you down."

"But I'm heavy."

Vegeta snorted.  "Your son weighs more than you do, ema, and he still has years to go before he reaches his adult proportions."  He tightened his hand on her posterior, squeezing gently.  "You weigh little more than a infant."  It was the truth; he could have carried her easily with one hand, had she not been so damned tall.  He suspected that when it came down to it, she would stand taller than he in bare feet, although he'd never admit it.

Her face darkened, and she partially relaxed against him, although she was still strung out like an angsty teenager.  "He's…he's been hurt," she began wistfully.  "I don't know what happened to him, and I don't know where he is, either.  Just that he's in pain."

Vegeta grunted, not knowing exactly what to say.  Her brat wasn't his problem.  Instead of trying to say anything that would always be wrong no matter what it was, he merely walked towards the door.  "Which way are we going?"

"Left," Chichi ordered, leaning back against his chest.  "All the way down to the end of the hall."

And so they went, the Prince carrying the Princess he had chosen to make his mate, inhaling her scent.  Beneath the bath oils she smelled like the deep woods—and a tangy shadow of wood smoke hung over her like a cloud.  His mate was well-acquainted with the fires of life—and she had not been diminished.

Eventually they came out into a small rough-hewn room, the walls covered with thick hangings of grotesque figures wielding ancient weapons against even more gruesome monsters.  There was heavy furniture scattered all over the place, and the woman's father was reclining in a chair obviously made to fit his large frame.  The too-slender figure of the Queen was arrayed on one of the couches.  Their eyes were fixed blearily on an ancient television propped against one wall.

Both of the older adults jerked wearily to attention back when Vegeta toted the supposedly sleeping woman in and put her down on one of the couches before throwing himself onto the cushions next to her.  He glared at the two curious faces staring at them.  "There is something wrong with her," he announced sternly.  "And I want to know what it is."

The change that his words brought over the adults was astonishing.  Merebai was off the couch and beside his mate in a flash, the King of Ox not far behind.  Chichi flinched back from them as they both leaned over her, murmuring worries.  "Chi-chan," the big man gushed in anxiety, "What is wrong?  Do I need to go for Doctor Hoek?"

Merebai looked no less worried, and even put her hand on Chichi's brow.  "What's wrong dear?  You were sleeping fine when I checked on you last time."

Chichi flinched away from their attention, weakly pushing her body back into the leather couch.  Vegeta growled.  "She needs to breathe," he snapped at the adults.

Ox and Merebai both pinned him with disgruntled stares, but they did both back off.  Just a bit.  Merebai plopped down on the couch beside her and touched her arm lightly.  "Can you tell us what happened, hatchling?"

Chichi nodded, taking extreme care not to move her head too far, as if she might get dizzy again.  "I felt Gohan," she murmured.  "He was angry.  He has every right to be…and Piccolo was following him.  Their kis were close.  But then something happened.  Gohan was in pain; and then he just winked out!"  She blinked furiously for a moment.  "And then," she paused, remembering the vision, one that she didn't want to bother them with, "then I woke up."

"She was so dizzy she couldn't stand," Vegeta informed tersely, wrapping his arms beneath his chest.

The Queen's eyebrows lowered to the point where they nearly met at the bridge of her nose.  "Dizzy?"

Chichi nodded again.  "The whole room just…whirled.  I couldn't keep my balance."  She glanced up at her Aunt.  "Is it a side effect of what happened to Gohan and our bond?"

Merebai pursed her lips and grazed her eyes up and down Chichi, examining her for something…Vegeta was startled to feel a sliver of cool ki float around the room, but it retracted quickly, leaving only the sense of himself and the big man.  He shook his head, wondering which woman it had come from.  They were both like walking black holes—they had no ki at all.

Merebai glanced back up at Ox in some kind of unspoken question.  Ox nodded.  "Hatchling," Merebai began, "you're very tired; and what has happened to Gohan, and no, we don't know where he is, we're still looking," she inserted as Chichi opened her mouth, "but what happened to him could cause some of what you're feeling, especially since your energy is so low."

Vegeta was struck with the impulse that he would not like what was coming next.  Was she ill?  Had he mated a woman who had some sort of illness that would slowly take her away from him?

Chichi locked gazes with her Aunt.  "I know you know what's going on."  Her voice was flat and hard and her pulse quickened on her neck.  "Tell me," she demanded with all the bluntness of a battering ram.

The red-haired woman bit down on her lip for just a moment, then shrugged.  "Your ki is being drained," she said simply.  "And at the moment you don't have enough to go around."

Vegeta frowned.  He had heard of creatures whom lived off the life energy of others, but he knew there were no such things on Earth.  They would have found him by now—or the Namek or the brat, so them being attracted to his comparatively weak mate and not himself was ridiculous.

Chichi, however, had frowned.  "Drain my ki," she repeated, cocking her head minutely to one side as she thought.  "But what could drain my ki?"

Her Aunt lifted an eyebrow.  "What did it last time?"

His mate paused, confused.  "Last time?  Nothing's ever _eaten_ my ki before.  The only time that it was ever depleted aside from battle or the training grounds was when I was carrying."  Realization struck, and the force of her shock pushed against Vegeta like a Big Bang Attack.

Hands flew to cover her mouth and her eyes grew wide.  "Dear Kami," she murmured hoarsely.  "I—I can't be!"

Vegeta heard Ox draw his breath in and hold it, staring at the two women with a half-ecstatic-half-horrified expression.  He had no clue what was going on; but it looked like he was the only one.

"I can't be," she repeated softly.  "It's too soon."  She glanced despairingly at Vegeta.  "It hasn't even been a week!"

Merebai reached out and grasped one of her hands, squeezing it in comfort.  "You are," she began gently.  "I could tell as soon as I laid eyes on you this morning—well, yesterday morning now.  Your ki flickers."

Chichi shook her head, a few locks of her long hair caught across her face.  "But a baby?"  

Vegeta froze.

"Now?"  She sighed.  "The timing could have been better."  She had gone even paler, if that was possible.  "Gohan's out there, somewhere, close to dying and we don't even know where he is!  He's upset about my bonding Vegeta," she tossed him a tight but genuine smile, "and now…" her voice trailed off.  "I'm going to hurt him again."

She tried to push herself up to pace in anger, but Merebai pulled her back down to the couch.  "You need to calm down," she ordered.  "With your energy stretched as thin as it is, your body won't take much more."

Ox-king, who had remained silent all through this, finally cleared his throat.  "I think," he began gruffly, "that we all could use some tea.  I'll go and make some."  Vegeta found the wise black eyes regarding him.  "Would you give me a hand, Vegeta?"

Vegeta opened his mouth to reply that he was the Prince of all Saiyans and did not need to make tea, but something in the man's eyes stopped him.  It warned him that protesting would only make his life much more difficult.  With a shrug, he picked himself up off the couch and numbly followed the King.

Maybe he would tell him what the hell was going on here.

As soon as the two men had disappeared, Merebai turned back to her niece, pulling her into a gentle embrace.  "It will be all right," she soothed.  "I'm sorry you had to find out this way, but it was for the best.  You would have hurt yourself and the little one if you hadn't known."

Chichi sat still, too stunned to resist.  "But…"

Merebai shushed her.  "Last time around we thought you were so ill because you were so young.  This time we know better.  There is something about carrying a Saiyan baby that weakens your ki, probably because the baby feeds off your life energy as well as your physical energy."

Chichi opened her mouth.  "But we don't know that."

"No," Merebai agreed, "we don't.  It's just a theory.  You were very young when you had Gohan, but given how you're reacting now, I think the weakness is a part of carrying a Saiyan baby."  She shook her head.  "I would ask Vegeta about the particulars, but I seriously doubt he would speak to me at the moment."

Chichi sighed, tentatively reaching within her for the part of her that was Vegeta and was met only by a writhing mass of deep thought.  She redirected her attention to the tiny sliver that was her connection with Gohan and skirted around it.  It was too quiet and saturated with pain and touching it would be like touching a hot branding iron.  She hadn't the strength to get lost in it, but she needed to know.

She closed her eyes, carefully extending tiny little tendrils of awareness down that bond, pushing them towards the other end with the ease of long familiarity.  This was her baby, a tiny little bit of herself that she had nurtured within her and brought into the world.  He was her heart, walking around in a body beside her own.  Her probes found only pain.  Pain and despair.  Marshalling what little strength she figured she could spare, she coated it with her love and offered it to him, hoping she could figure out where he was.

Unfortunately, the bond didn't work that way.  She could only track kis, not phantom presences she felt in her soul.  Although she felt his presence respond to her own and accept what she could offer him, there was no sense of how he'd been hurt or where he was—only that the effort to stay alive took every bit of his energy.  The Princess clung to her son until she couldn't possibly stay any longer then pulled away, finding tears of sympathy dripping down her nose.

She gulped air into her lungs, flopping back against the lumpy couch as her spine seemed to melt away.  Her Aunt's hands clamped down on hers, squeezing comfortingly as she fought the urge to break down into sobs.  "He's hurt so bad," she whispered brokenly to her Aunt.  "It's like…the demon…all over again."

Merebai sighed and glanced in the general direction of the kitchen, praying Ox had the sense to brew the right kind of tea.  If they didn't get Chichi calmed down and asleep there would be dire consequences for all of them.  The girl was strung out worse than a tightrope; any more pressure and she'd unravel.  She needed sleep, and preferably a few days of it.

Hopefully by then they could find Gohan.

"Your Father and I both have men out looking for him," she offered gently.  "And Mr. Popo said he would ask Kami to look for him when he got back to the Lookout."

Chichi hiccupped and dashed the tears away.  "You—you talked to Mr. Popo?"

Merebai nodded.  "Yes; he came to tell me that something dangerous had gone missing from one of Kami's vaults here on the surface.  I dispatched the Guard to look into it, but not before asking Mr. Popo to ask Kami to look for Gohan.  He promised as soon as he heard anything he'd be back."

Chichi nodded and relaxed a bit more, still no less distressed about her son, but unable to find the strength she needed to support her anger.  After a moment she collected herself and glanced at Merebai.  "Something was stolen from the vaults," she repeated, prying for information.  "Is earth in any danger?"

Merebai shook her head.  "No.  Not from the surface.  I haven't heard any whispers about danger from within."

If Chishali turned any paler she'd be transparent.  Merebai sat up and regarded her, silver eyes snapping.  Had the girl actually been warned about something happening to the planet?  "What?  Did you see something?"

Chichi shook her head.  "No—it was just my subconscious playing tricks on me; it wasn't a whisper.  They're…different….from what you've told me," she allowed.  "I'm just not sure of anything right now.  All I want is my Gohan back."

"We'll find him," Merebai soothed again, wrapping her arms around the exhausted woman.  "But until you're feeling better there's nothing you can do, hatchling.  You can't' help him when you can't take care of yourself."

"I know," the woman admitted, leaning against her Aunt.  "But he's my son, I have to do something."

Merebai ran her fingers through the mussed black hair and pulled her head down to settle on her shoulder.  They sat like that in silence for several minutes, aunt and niece, content to be in each other's presence despite the grim circumstances and raging storm.  Here within the castle walls they were safer than they would be than almost anywhere else, and it was comforting to know that.

The murmur of the TV in the background was comforting, and Chichi listened to it, trying her hardest to stay awake.  Apparently this storm was some sort of freak weather front that had just popped up over most of the planet, and the experts had yet to determine the whys or hows of the matter.  They only knew that it was fiercer in some places than in others, ranging from tsunami-sized gales to light rain—but it was there.

She jumped in surprise when Vegeta burst into the room, arms full of logs and looking more than a tad disgusted.  Her father followed him, pushing a serving cart laden with delicate china and a small pile of assorted goodies that she knew he would have baked that afternoon, and she had to admit they smelled marvelous.

Ox smiled at her, and looked at Vegeta.  "Just put them next to the fireplace," he said lightly before settling the contents of the cart to the small coffee table, the delicate chinawear looking like mere toys in his large hands.

Chichi found herself holding a cup full of a very dark, murky tea and a plate with a chocolate éclair and a square of baclava on it.  "Tea first," her father urged.  "Vegeta made it."

Chichi glanced at Vegeta, who had just sat down beside her. He grumbled and looked away.  She smiled and took a sip of the drink, fighting the urge not to spit it out.  It tasted horrible!  Like….like muddy water that had been mixed with sludge and boiled with old coffee grounds.  She forced herself to swallow it and managed a smile at Vegeta.  "Thanks," she said, "It's a little…strong."  Not wanting to insult him, she closed her eyes and downed the rest of the cup in a few quick swallows, not noticing the wink her father and aunt shared.

Sitting the cup down firmly, she crammed an end of the éclair into her mouth, hoping to get some of that taste out of her mouth.  Not even half of the sweet chocolate-filled pastry could eliminate the foul taste the tea left—if it was even tea.  She winced and shoved some of the baclava into her mouth, resisting the urge to shudder.  That stuff was nasty!

Both the éclair and the baclava disappeared quickly, as did a few other of the baked treats on the platter.  By the time the others had finished their tea (or rather, inhaling it in Vegeta's case), Chichi was yawning, fighting to keep her eyes open.

She had nearly nodded off when the phone rang, and, in vain hopes that it might be about Gohan, managed to stay awake while her father lumbered off to answer it.  When he didn't come back for a long time, she started to worry.  What if Gohan had died?  By the time her father had come back into the room, she had worked herself into a fine state of worry again.

Ox-King came back in, looking like he was the bearer of bad news.  Chichi sat up straight, hand instinctively going for her Aunt's, not knowing if she wanted to hear what they had to say.  "Chi-chan," he began gently, "that was Master Roshi."

The old pervert?  What did he want?

"He was just calling to tell me that they found Gohan."  Before Chichi could demand an answer, he continued.  "Gohan's alive—he's breathing, and both Dr. Briefs and Bulma are there to tend to him."

Merebai winced as her niece somehow found the strength in her body to grip her hand so hard she thought it would break.

"Well, Chi-chan….they think he's been hit by lightning."

Chichi could only stare at her father.  "Lightning?"  She repeated blankly.  "My baby was hit by lightning?"

Ox-king nodded and Merebai threw an arm around her shoulders to steady her.  "But…but he's going to be ok, isn't he?"

Vegeta, who had until this point still been silent, spoke up.  "He is Saiyan.  It will take more than a little lightning to kill him."

Chichi took deep shuddering breaths, trying not to panic.  Her son was strong, she _knew _he was alive, and the one person who knew the most about Saiyan physiology was there with him.  She knew that all three of them were watching her, and was startled to feel her lids slowly start to droop again, despite what she had just heard.  Her strength had finally run out, and her body had resorted to defending itself by shutting down into sleep.

As soon as her eyes shut and her head lolled back, Vegeta was on his feet, gathering her up to carry her back to the bedroom.  Merebai reached out and picked up Chichi's empty tea cup, bringing it to her nose to sniff the tiny remainder in the bottom of the cup.  She grimaced and set it back down.  "I didn't realize you still had some of that stuff," she told the King, who was collecting dishes from the table and piling them back on the cart.  "And we didn't even have to pour it down her throat this time."

Ox smiled weakly.  "That's why I told her Vegeta made it.  She never would have suspected him."

Merebai made sure that the surly Prince was out of earshot before she turned back to Ox.  "Now…what did the old goon who wormed his way into my mother's good graces really say?  You still haven't learned to lie to your family yet."

Ox looked at her sadly, his face solemn.  "Unless there's some sort of miracle, they don't expect Gohan to survive."

Merebai sighed and glanced towards the heavens, clenching her hands into fists as she silently demanded what the Powers That Were had against her family.  Ox watched quietly as her face settled into the determined lines that said she had an idea. "If it's a miracle he needs," she vowed quietly, "then we'll just have to find him one."

As she detailed her plan to her brother-in-law, the storms continued to rage around Mt. Frypan, and on an island in the far-off distance, a little boy struggled to hang onto life.

Something would have to give—and soon.

To Be Continued.

Please Review!


	7. Shades of Gray

A/N:  Yes, I am aware that it's taken me forever to do this, but hey, quality stuff takes time.  I've spent ages researching and developing things for the Amazon culture that I'm about to subject you all to in a few chapters.  Anyway, not much here, just…stuff preparing for other chapters.  And the start of a conclusion to the Gohan Situation.  At least for right now, anyway.

Mailing List/Discussion Forum:  

Thanks, Kiarene, Bigin', Lisse (especially for the whole help in developing that society), Daniel of Lorien, Vegeta n Chichi lover, DemonQueen, Kristina, Shygurl (it's here now!  I've been developing things *gasp*), and girlie!

Elektra642000:  I know what sex Chichi's baby is…and so do a few other poor souls who have to listen to me expound, but you'll just have to wait and see.  As for Ox, he's not really a professional baker, but it's a hobby.  What he really does, or rather, did, will show up in later chapters.

Penchy-Chan:  Wow, my longest review yet!  Thank you…you have no idea how happy you've made me by telling me I got across what I wanted to in that last chapter.  Merebai's awesome, and she and Octavia (chi's mom) and Ox all have a tangled and rather complicated past together.  Yup.  I couldn't stand Chichi being as shallow as she seemed, and hence, this was born.  This is the sort of thing that happens when I think for too long.  Gohan isn't dieing (I have plans for the chibi, don't worry), and the whole triangle will come to life shortly.  I would say in two chapters, but I'm never sure how much I'm going to accomplish in one.  The storm _is_ a hint for something, but as of what, I'm not telling.  And Chi's not so much of the key as a major player.  It'll all come to light with the Amazons.  I hope.  (*eyes ramble.  Sorry if that was incoherent*)

Dark and Emotionless Shadow:  Eh, you're getting close.  I'm dividing lots of things, and combining others.  And as for Gohan, he's only 8.  He'll come around eventually.  Or he won't.  Just depends. ;-)

Enjoy!

Disclaimer:  I don't own DBZ.  I do, however, own assorted original characters and cultures, and don't mind sharing as long as I'm asked first.

Amazon and Saiyan

By Nadia Rose

Chapter 7:  Shades of Gray

Chichi's first thought as she came back to consciousness was that she was alone in her bedroom.  Vegeta's presence, which had been so close to her for days, was now much farther away.  Not too far—it felt like he was out past the ruins of the castle's outer wall, but not by much.  She pushed herself up on one elbow and looked around, noticing that the door to her bedroom had been replaced, and the drapes had been pulled across the windows to keep the sun out.

The room went out of focus and she closed her eyes, resisting the urge to lie back down.  She could tell from the stiffness of her body that she'd been in bed for a long time, and staying there for much longer would only make it worse.  She pulled her knees up, wriggled her toes while stretching her arms and neck, encouraging the blood to start circulating again.  After a few seconds she tingled all over and the blurriness had receded.

Yawning, she stumbled into her bathroom to relieve herself and get a drink of water.  Her father had given her that damn tea again; the horrible-tasting stuff he and Aunt Bai had regularly poured down her throat all during her pregnancy with Gohan.  It always left a horribly dry taste in her mouth.  She was brushing her teeth when Vegeta strode into the room, glistening with sweat.  She stopped mid-brush, belatedly remembering to yank the toothbrush out of her mouth as she stared at him, admiring the well-developed musculature.  Even his spandex was sweaty.

He watched her out of the corner of one eye, stalking straight to the ledge next to the window to sit down.  She watched him for a moment.  "Were you training?"

Her mate nodded, leaning against the bathroom wall.  Chichi gave him a slight smile and continued to attack her mouth; it tasted like something had crawled in there and died while she slept.  "You know," she muttered around her toothbrush, "you didn't have to stop training because I woke up."

Vegeta's reflection in the mirror shrugged, dark eyes darting around for something.  They landed on the bathtub and he smirked, yanking off his spandex tunic.  "It's almost time to eat," he barked gruffly, turning on the faucets to fill the tub with warm water.  As she discarded her toothbrush in favor of a hairbrush he stripped off the rest of his clothing and stepped into the water, sinking up to his waist.  "I will not misrepresent my people before the King and Queen."

Chichi nodded, not bothering to take note that he'd never seemed concerned before, but then again, Bulma wasn't really on regular visiting terms with royalty.  She pinned her hair up on top of her head and stepped over to the tub, shed her nightgown and eased her way into the water, ignoring Vegeta's gaze while she reached for the soap and washcloths.  She tossed one at him and began to scrub her body, making no attempt to make a big fuss over the situation.  He wouldn't be comfortable with that.

"How long have I been asleep?"

"Two days," he returned, working the lather over his arms.

"Two days?"  Chichi swore, shaking her head.  "If I'm not more careful they're going to keep me asleep through half of this pregnancy."

Vegeta looked up from his washing, narrowing his eyes.  "It's true, then," he muttered.

Chichi paused from examining the wounds on one of her feet and looked up at him, emotions flitting across her face.  "My ki flickers, so it would seem so."  She ticked off days on her fingers, trying to figure out how long it had been.  "It's too early for the baby to have its own ki yet, probably not for another two or three weeks."  She glanced up at him, seeing confusion pass across his face.  "You haven't felt it flicker, have you?"

Before he could answer she had seized one of his hands and placed it between both of her own.  "I'm sorry.  I forgot that you don't know how to look beneath my shield."

"Shield?"

She looked up at him, sweeping the fringe of bangs out of her eyes and nodded.  "I don't actually suppress my ki.  I have a shield that blocks my ki from the outside world, and I keep a light layer above it most of the time for the other ki-sensitives to read.  When I don't think about it or get very tired, I forget to project that layer and my ki, for all outside senses, just disappears."

Vegeta's frown was reflective, and that funny little crease showed up between his brows again.  "It's…in your blood."

Chichi nodded.  "I'm an Amazon.  We're born with an innate ki-sense."  She ran her thumbs across his hand.  "I'll explain later—it's a very long story, and I'm not the best person to tell it.  I haven't been to Amazonia since I was a little girl."  Climbing out of the tub, she dried herself and pulled clean clothes out of the closet, sliding into them and tying her hair back neatly.  By the time she was done, Vegeta emerged from the bathroom in normal clothes—dark slacks and a white dress shirt that were so contradictory to what she had come to think of him in that she almost dropped her ornamental hair comb.

She slid it against her scalp and smiled, not quite sure if she should comment on the clothes or not.  She settled for straightening her shirt instead, and lead the way back down to the informal dining room, a route that Vegeta was more than familiar with now.

Her father was there, sitting in his massive chair, in deep conversation with Merebai, who had discarded her heavy coat in favor of a thin sweater.  Neither noticed when they came in, and Chichi quietly spiked her ki just enough to get her aunt's attention.  The two older adults looked up, a practiced smile sliding across Merebai's face.  "Chishali, darling," she exclaimed.  "You don't look like a zombie now.  Are you feeling better?"

Chichi lifted an eyebrow and gave the only two parents she really remembered a piercing glare.  "The little trick with the tea was smooth, but don't expect me to fall for it again."

Her father had the grace to blush and look away, but her Aunt stared back at her with an expression identical to her own.  "You needed it, hatchling, and it did you good."  She waved graciously at the two empty seats across from her and Ox.  "It gave us a little time to get things settled out with Gohan first."

Heart rising immediately to her throat, the Princess's eyes pleaded with the adults to tell her what was going on.  When it came to her son, Chichi had no shame, although she was more than a little ashamed that she hadn't thought of him immediately.  "How is he?"

Merebai's smile was the imitation one again—the one that didn't quite crinkle her eyes.

"Don't lie to me Aunt Bai.  I want to know the truth."

"Very well," the gloss in Merebai D'Amazon's tone was gone, although her voice was no less smooth.  "He was moved to Capsule Corps yesterday and put into the intensive care unit there.  Bulma's hired the best doctors in the hemisphere to help her take care of him, and they're being…optimistic."

Dark eyes swung to her father, hunting for a more straightforward answer.  Ox shrugged, the movement sending the mass of his shoulders rippling beneath his shirt.  "It's still too early to tell, Chi-chan.  They're doing everything they can."

Chichi lifted her chin proudly, a gesture that she had unconsciously adopted from her late mother, and one that gave both of the monarchs a pang of nostalgia.  "I want to see him."  It wasn't a question, and the words echoed in the unpretentious room that was filled only with a table and chairs.  "Now."

Ox was the first to shake off his disorientation, and he shook his head in a motion that sent the horns of his hat vibrating.  "No Chichi," his voice was stern—the same tone that had often made his wayward young wife take pause.  "We'll go after lunch, and not before."

Vegeta watched in surprise at the change the firm tone brought over his mate.  She ducked her head slightly and closed her eyes, submitting without losing her demeanor.  "Yes Papa."

She sat down at the table and folded her hands in her lap, staring blankly ahead, at Vegeta.  Her eyes were smooth—too smooth.  She'd buried herself back beneath the mask, and ate automatically, finishing her food quickly, then sat in silence while the rest of them continued to eat.  Vegeta watched her out of the corner of his eye, noting her stiff posture and dropped head.  Between one bite of roast pork and the next, he poked at the little piece of her that rested deep inside him, and her head shot up, shining eyes locking onto his for a split second.  She shook her head minutely and dropped her head again, studying the hands she had folded in her lap.

The rest of the meal continued in silence:  Chi studied her hands, Merebai absently swirled the rich red wine in her glass, Ox watched the dreary weather, and Vegeta continued to pack food away in a fashion that would have made any seasoned trencherman jealous.  The only real activity in the room was the castle servants, who seemed to have multiplied since Vegeta had arrived, jogging back and forth from the table to the kitchen with dishes.

When he sat back, finally sated, the humans were still sitting quietly, avoiding speaking to each other with the ease that suggested they had far too much practice with it.  

The last of the dishes were cleared away in silence, before Chi finally cleared her throat.  "May I go now?"  Her voice was light and polite, but it was about as warm as the vacuum of space.  Not even light could escape.  "I do have a son to go and see," she barbed blithely, watching dispassionately as both adults cringed.

Without even glancing at the King, the Queen nodded.  "Of course, dear," she sounded about as real as a soap opera star, "Go ahead."  She stood up abruptly from her chair, depositing her wine glass back on the table.  "I'll come with you, in fact."  Her smile was a bit more real this time, and she glanced at her brother-in-law.  "Are you coming?"

The woman's father pondered for a moment then shook his head.  "No, at least one of us should stay here, and I'm not going to do any good there."

Merebai nodded.  "Very well.  I've always been curious about this Capsule Corps anyway, I've never been there."  She smiled at Chishali and linked an arm through hers, practically hauling her towards the door, pausing long enough to take two coats from one of the servants.

With one last glance at his empty plate, Vegeta followed.

He found the women in the courtyard on wet cobbles, the whole place still reeking of wet earth.  The Queen kept trying to get his mate to put on a coat, which she was denying.  "It's not that cold, Aunt Bai!"

Merebai shook her head.  "It _is _cold Chishali and you've been through a lot.  Please, take the coat."  She nodded at the trench coat hanging over one arm.  "You don't have to wear it, but just take it if it gets cold."

Consenting, Chi took the coat and stuffed it beneath one arm.  Before her Aunt could say anything more she lifted her voice and summoned that little cloud of Kakarot's which zoomed down from the sky to hover before her.  She hopped onto it easily and extended a hand to her Aunt, who merely shook her head and concentrated on _something_.  A few seconds later a little silver cloud almost identical to that of Kakarot's wrapped itself around her feet and lifted her into the air.

Vegeta shook his head.  Humans and their playthings.  He leapt off the ground and hovered in the damp air while the two clouds sped off towards Capsule Corps.  Vegeta followed at a more sedate pace.  He didn't want to leave his mate alone to face the vultures who were probably circling around the boy, just waiting to tear her apart.

The threesome landed at Capsule Corps about half an hour later, Chichi hastily braiding the hair that had come loose on the ride over, while Merebai stared around her in open curiosity.  Kinotoun zipped back off towards the heavens, and the cloud that had been hovering at Mereabai's fingertips dissolved into nothingness.

If Bulma had seen it, she would have had a thousand questions.  Even Vegeta had questions, but he didn't really want to talk to the older woman.  She asked too many questions that she didn't need to know the answers to.

The Saiyan Prince scanned the building for kis, and was slightly dismayed to recognize that they were all there, from the Namek to the weakling human samurai.  He crossed his arms and arms and waited.

Bulma burst through the door a few seconds later, having been alerted to someone inside of their presence.  She planted her hands on her hips and glared at Vegeta.  "Don't destroy anything."

Vegeta glared at her but disappeared into the house, and Bulma turned back to the two women.  "Chi?"  Her attempt at a reassuring smile failed miserably.  "We've got Gohan down in the new hospital wing."  Blue eyes glanced to the second woman.  "Who're you?"

"My name is Merebai," the woman inclined her head politely, which was actually an honor Bulma couldn't even begin to realize.  "I'm Chishali's Aunt."

Bulma's eyes flickered to Chichi.  Roshi had said something about Chichi having an Aunt earlier.  "Very well," she nodded.  "Gohan's this way."  Gesturing vaguely towards one of Capsule Corp's many domes, she turned on her heels and marched inside.

Chichi followed Bulma through the labyrinth of hallways in Capsule Corps, aware that her son's pulsing ki was getting closer.  It was so unlike Gohan that she wanted to turn and run, but love kept propelling her feet one in front of the other.  Merebai's hand on her back kept her moving, and Bulma shuffled ahead without saying a word.  The purple velvet circles beneath her eyes and the sag to her back said enough.

After passing through several security measures, Bulma finally led them into a section of CC Chichi had never been in before; the hospital.  She'd known they'd installed one not too long ago, but had never actually been there.

It smelled like a hospital.

She swallowed, trying to ignore the acrid disinfectant fumes that violated her senses.  Chi hated hospitals.

Bulma paused before a glass-fronted room equipped with closed blinds and turned to them.  "Are you sure you want to go in, Chichi?  It's—it's not very pretty.  I can get the doctor to come out here and talk to you."

The younger woman shook her head.  "No.  I have to see; let him know I'm here."

Bulma's eyes glimmered.  "He won't know.  They've been keeping him sedated to keep the pain down."

Chi's eyes clamped down on hers.  "He'll know," she whispered hoarsely.

Bulma nodded and palmed the door open, mentally preparing herself for the worst.

Chi brushed past her and stubbornly marched towards the plastic tenting, ignoring the frantic roiling in her stomach.  She'd lived through this—she had to be there to help her son, a comforting voice to anchor him right now.  She _knew_ what he was going through.  Pulling herself to a stop at the edge of the sheeting, she took a deep breath, braced herself, and looked in.

It wasn't as bad as she was expecting.

Gohan was lying on the bed in the middle of the plastic tent, surrounded by monitors and tubing.  He didn't really look that bad.  There were burns, but not…all over.  The worst were on his arms and hands, where he must've tried to shield his face and neck, although she could see the patterns of less-severe ones dotted all over his body.

They had braced his neck, and Chi thought there might have been some sort of casts on his legs, but her attention focused on the fifth limb that draped over the side of the bed.  Gohan had regenerated his tail.  And the soft hairs that covered it were without pigment; his tail was white.

Aside from the burns and the wires, he didn't really look…injured.  More like he was sleeping, but she still couldn't take her eyes off him.

Bulma watched Chichi watch Gohan, and was surprised when the woman didn't do any of the things she'd expected her to do.  There wasn't any screaming, any tears, or any temper tantrums.  Instead she stood quietly and simply looked at him, the red-haired woman who had been introduced as her Aunt at her shoulder.

The Capsule-Corps heiress idly wondered where the Ox-King was, but squashed that thought when the doctor let himself into the room.  Nakamatsu Makoto was a tall thin man just out of medical school, but he was undoubtably the brightest doctor she had yet to meet.  He was the only human on the planet outside the family who'd ever looked at the biological information Bulma had gathered off of the Saiyans and various aliens over the years.  Most importantly, she trusted him implicitly.

"Chichi?"  She touched the woman lightly on the shoulder.  "I want you to meet Dr. Nakamatsu.  Dr., this is Gohan's mother, Son Chichi." Bulma grimaced, not sure if she should have used that name.

Makoto, however, merely pushed his wire-framed glasses onto his nose and extended a hand.  "Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Son."

Chi took the extended hand and shook it lightly.  "Chichi," she corrected quietly, eyes straying to Gohan.  "Tell me about my son?"

The Doctor glanced down at her.  "Perhaps you'd like to sit down first?"

The young woman shook her head.  "I'll be fine.  Just…tell me.  Please."

After receiving a quick nod from Bulma, the Doctor launched into an explanation.  "Your son was struck by lightning, Mrs. Son, which is much briefer than an electrical shock.  Instead of having current flowing through him for an extended period of time, it just flashed through him.  Probably the only thing that saved his life."

Chichi closed her eyes, and the red-haired woman put a gaunt hand on her shoulder to support her.

"Like all electrical shock victims, he went into cardiac arrest, but Miss Briefs and her father were able to stabilize him long enough that it wasn't as devastating as it could be.  The worst of his burns are on his hands and arms, and we're already trying to grow the samples for grafts."  He took a deep breath and continued.  "We're certain most of his injuries are internal; they usually are in this type of case, but only test results will tell."

Chi nodded.

The woman standing behind her raised an eyebrow.  "And?"

The Doctor sighed.  "Given Gohan's…unique…physiology, we're not sure how to treat him.  Any commonly-used drugs might have an adverse effect on him, and the tanks that Miss Brief has been working on are nowhere near ready yet."

Chi's dark eyes filled with tears.  "Is he in pain?"

Makoto shook his dark head.  "No, Miss Briefs has already found a pain-reliever that doesn't react and we were able to use it.  He's not in any pain."

"But you don't know how to treat him," she murmured, stricken.

Unable to say anything reassuring about that, the doctor merely nodded.

Chi put a hand on her back and another on her forehead, coming to terms with what she'd just heard.  When the information had finally sunk in, she nodded briskly.  "Your prognosis?"

Makoto shook his dark head again.  "It's still too soon to tell.  There are the burns, and he's broken one of his legs, and we're still checking his spine for any cracks.  He was lucky, though; I don't think we'll have to amputate anything."  He paused for a moment.  "Even if Gohan does survive, lightning victims often have numerous health problems.  Cataracts, heart problems, nerve problems, and a lot of the time psychological side effects like anxiety attacks and sleep disorders."

The boy's mother bit her lip.

Makoto shuffled his feet uncertainly.  He'd never expected to actually be doing this—he was just hired to learn about them as a backup after the healing tanks were finished.

He found himself being stared at by a pair of dark silver eyes.  "Will the boy survive?"

The Doctor glanced at the woman, then at his sleeping patient.  "Judging from what little we do know, I'm surprised he's still alive."

Bulma's blue eyes flashed with worry as Chichi swayed on her feet, almost colliding against the unnaturally thin redhead.  She moved quickly to support her other side.  "C'mon Chi," she soothed.  "Let's go out in the hall so you can clear you head."

She guided Chi out into the hall and settled her down in a nearby chair, glancing down at the drawn features of the younger woman, who had taken on a slightly green tint.  "Are you ok?  Do you want a glass of water?"

Chi swallowed, not trusting herself to talk, and nodded.

"Stay there," Bulma ordered, then marched off to do something for the younger woman.  She'd never seen her look so lost, and it bothered her.  Anything, even the screaming and ranting and general irascible temper that made them all uncomfortable was better than accepting silence.

There was a refrigerator and mugs at the nurses' station, and Bulma quietly poured Chi a glass of water and herself a cup of the sludge-like coffee she'd been living off of since the storm.  She was only thankful Piccolo had been there and was able to catch Gohan; she wasn't sure how she was going to do that from a sealed cabin, but she would've figured out a way.  Somehow, along the line, she'd become Gohan's godmother—although she wasn't sure of the when or how, and she felt responsible for him.

If she hadn't nearly run into him with a plane he would have been able to dodge that last lightning bolt.

No matter where the blame lied, what had been done was done, and there was no way she could turn back time.  At least, she didn't think so—she hadn't really poked at any quantum mechanics lately.  Giving her head a brisk shake, she took both cups and wandered back towards where she'd left Chichi.

And promptly almost dumped coffee down her front because Chichi wasn't alone.

Vegeta stood by the chair next to her, peering into Gohan's room.  He wasn't paying any attention to Chichi, but Bulma could see his mouth moving as he said something to her.  She was watching him, wringing her hands in worry.  Vegeta stopped speaking and looked down at her for a long moment before he said something else that made a grim smile flicker across Chichi's face.  A strong hand rested on her shoulder for a moment before he turned and walked away towards the general direction of the Gravity Room.

As soon as he was gone Bulma continued forward, not wanting to intrude on whatever it was that had just happened.  She dropped into the chair next to Chichi's and held out the mug of water and tipped some of the coffee down her throat, despite the fact that it was still scalding hot.  Chichi drank slowly before cradling the cup in her hands; Bulma was glad to see that her color was a little better.  "You ok?"

Chichi studied her cup.  "Not really," she admitted.  "Too many memories."  She turned her head to glance back towards the room her son was in.  "And a guilt trip the size of the planet."

Internally, Bulma swore.  When she'd first heard why Gohan was out in the thunderstorm in the first place she'd been mad enough that her anger had rivaled the storm outside.  She'd blamed both Vegeta and Chichi for betraying Goku, not sure who deserved it more.  She was apt to blame Vegeta entirely, but she knew him well enough that he wouldn't have touched a woman in an intimate fashion without her consent.  But sitting here next to Chichi and looking at her expression, Bulma couldn't really lay blame on her either.  "Chi, I was the one who practically hit him with a plane!"

"And if it hadn't been for me he wouldn't have been out in that storm in the first place."

She sighed and rose, peering back into Gohan's room, where her Aunt was practically interrogating the poor doctor.  "Don't get me wrong, Bulma, I love Goku.  I gave up my entire way of life to marry him, and I didn't regret it in the slightest.  But then…then the Saiyans came and everything changed."  Fingers tightened around the cup until knuckles whitened.  "I tried to change too, to turn back to the fighter I'd been as a teenager, but I wasn't good enough.  There wasn't any room for me in the circle, and I was left behind to wait and wonder and worry."

Bulma opened her mouth to protest, but shut it quickly.  She was right; they had excluded her from their plans to save the world from the likes of the Saiyans and Frieza.  She had always been Goku's wife or Gohan's mother—the woman crazy enough to compete in a World Tournament to find the man who'd promised to marry her, or the one who was so intent on making her son a scholar that when it came to matters of martial arts they didn't even talk to her about it.

Chichi continued.  "And I waited, because somebody had to be the stable one.  And they forgot me."  She shook her head.  "I've been married to Goku almost nine years, but I've only been with him about half of that.  Giving up my way of life didn't mean anything to him; I was just supposed to be the same, no matter what happened to me, and I couldn't take it anymore this last time."  She sighed.  "I just…had to be me.  I still love Goku, but I couldn't wait anymore for him.  Not knowing that if he ever did come back I'd just be asked to accept him back without question, and…I can't do that again.  Not and keep my sanity."

Bulma sat quietly, the woman's words echoing something that Roshi had said to her while they waited out the storm at Kame House.  How little any of them had actually bothered to get to know her over the years, to discover that there was more than a humming little housewife to Goku's wife.  Hell, they hadn't even known her real name.  "I'm sorry."

A sad smile tickled the corners of Chichi's—no, Chishali's—lips.  "For what?  I've made just as many mistakes as the rest of you.  I could have said something, I could have let you know about my past, I could have forced my way into the circle.  But I didn't, and I have to deal with that."  

She shook her head.  "I love Goku, but he would have managed to let us know he was coming back by now if he was, and waiting for a man that isn't going to come back was going to make me a bitter old woman."  She sighed.  "I'm not even 25, Bulma, and I feel like I've lived three lifetimes."

Bulma winced, her anger at Chichi gone.  She just really hadn't _realized_ what the people they'd left behind had gone through.  She should have said something to Goku, let him know that he couldn't have expected Chichi not to be upset, but she hadn't.  There were just so many things that had gone wrong, and nobody had bothered to try to fix them.  It was too late in some cases, because according to Piccolo, Chichi and Vegeta had bonded.

Vegeta.

Who, despite his sullen and arrogant exterior, was probably just as apt to leave Chichi alone as Goku was.  He was much more familiar with the whole concept of social relations and feelings than Goku, but he had no concept of the type of emotions that created a family.  Bulma was afraid Chichi had moved on from one type of abandonment to another.

She hadn't forgiven Chichi, not by a long shot, but she wasn't openly blaming her for what happened.  She wasn't blaming anyone—the whole situation was just too bizarre to be clean cut for that.  There wasn't any black and white:  devil Vegeta vs. angel Goku with confused mortal Chichi caught between them.  It was all a murky shade of gray.

And for one of the first times in her life, Bulma Briefs was truly confused.

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